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Jonas  Sirapkins  ;il  his  reveries. 


REVERIES 


OF  A 


WOODSAWTER; 


OK, 


"OTTMV 


SUM1'  SLICINGS  OF  CORD-WOOD, 


SERIO-COMIC  VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AS  IT  IS,  AS  TAKEN   FROM 
THE  TOP  OF  A  SAW-BUCK. 


BY 

JOTsTAS    SIMPKHSTS. 


NEW  TORK: 
Printed  for  TnE  Autitor  by  Lange,  Little  &  Hillman, 

108  to*  114  WOOSTER  STREET. 
1872. 


O 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 
BENJ.  E.  G.  JEWETT,  Agent, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


TO 

ME.  AND  MES.  GEUNDT 

IS  THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME 
CARELESSLY    DEDICATED, 
MORE  ON  ACCOUNT  OP  SOME  REMUNERATION  THAT  IS  EXPECTED 
TO   ACCRUE   TO    THE    PUBLISHER    THAN   FROM   ANY   REAL 
RESPECT    INTENDED   TO  BE  BESTOWED  UPON  THEM 
BY   THE    ECCENTRIC    FREETHINKER   AND   UN- 
QUENCHABLE   WOODSAWYER, 

JONAS    SIMPKINS. 


THE  PKEFACE. 


"'Sum'  slicings  of  cord- wood,"  intends  giving  some 
'•'  plain  talking  to  "  to  all  folks  (and  give  all  folks  "  some- 
thing to  talk  about"), and  consists  of  twenty-five,  or  more, 
different  essays,  so-called,  giving  in  eccentric  but  truthful 
language  the  "  private  opinion  publicly  expressed  "  of  the 
eggs-end-trick-wood-sawyer,  Jonas  Simpkins,  on  religion, 
political  economy,  mathematics,  patents,  business  life,  agri- 
culture (?),  RAILROADING,  NATURE,  CAPITAL,  LABOR,  and 
many  and  various  other  subjects.  These  opinions  were 
formed  from  silent  meditations  on  the  rounds  of  a  well-worn 
saw-buck — over  past  sad  (?)  experience  "  in  a  long  and  event- 
ful life."  They  are  serio-comic  views  of  things  as  they  be 
photographed  from  memory's  page  for  the  benefit  of 
"  whom  it  may  concern  " — with  a  partial  auto-biography  in- 
terwoven— and  'awl-so'  illustrations  by  a  chip  from  another 
block. 

Being  full  of  queer,  unique,  yet  appropriate  comparisons, 
and  many  quotations  from  authors  learned  and  unlearned, 
viz.:  street-preachers  and  bank-clerks,  newspaper-carriers 
and  peanut-women,  an  "Arp,"  a  Byron,  a  Shakespeare,  a 
Paul,  a  Jno.  G.  Saxe,  a  Beecher,  a  Jno.  Qu'incy  Adams,  a 
Phillips,  a  "  Doesticks,"  a  "  Billings,"  a  "  Twain,"  and  the 
"  world  at  large,"  it  ain't  "  turned  out  all  song,"  nor  it 
am't  "  turned  out  all  sermon." 


6  Preface. 

* 

Like  life,  so  a  pleasing-bopk  is  part  humor,  part  fact, 
part  song,  part  tract,  part  fun,  part  fight,  part  dark,  part 
light. 

When  you  think  it  too  serious,  look  out  for  joke ;  and 
when  too  "joky,"  look  out  for  serious. 

Gentle  reminders  are  no  prophecies. 

(I'd  advise  you  to  read  it  thro ' — e'en  from  Index  too 
Ajoo — forward  and  backward,  as  far  as  you  like.) 


WHERE  TO  FIND  THE  SLICES  OF  CORKWOOD. 


Pick  winch  you  think  best — but  watch  you  don't  get  fooled — as  to 
the  slices.  If  I  were  you,  and  intended  trying  part,  I'd  try  them  all 
— and  which  didn't  do  well  I'd  "  quit  on."  You  better  read  a  book 
thro'  only  once,  in  a  short  time  ;  for,  if  you  do  so  oftener,  you  might 
"  know  it  all,"  and,  as  a  wise  man,  thereby  become  disgusted  with  it. 


o 

PAGE 

To  THE  Reader  (to  be  read  by  everyone) 11 

Simpkins  Deputizes  a  Friend 16 

Humbug  as  a  Beverage — and  who  drinks  it 17 

"  Truth  is  Mighty  and  will  Prevail" — or,  About  some  back- 
stair  tumble — what  old  cheese  is — and  what  the  preacher 
said  truth  was,  and  where  to  find  it 23 

Fourth  of  July — or,  How  a  nation  festifies — who  an  Ameri- 
can is — and  what  perfumery  is *   29 

"  The  Milk  of  Human  Kindness  " — and  what  it  does   for  a 

"  feller  " — and  how  to  grow  it 38 

"  Knight  "   Err'd  and  Try'd    Again — or,   Something  about 

Knight-errantry 42 


8  Contents. 

PAGE 

Reminiscences — or,  My  (useful)  youth(s)ful  days  "  as  they  pass 
before  me" — with  something  about  consolation — Jonas 
saith 45 

Bkevity    the    Soul    of    Wit — or,  How  fools  do  talk — the 

necessity  of  not  believing  without  reasoning 50 

Horace  Greeley's  Old  White  Hat — or,  Greeley  on  syco- 
phancy      53 

"  To  ErR  is  Human,  to  Forgive  Divine  " — or,  Some  blunders 

shown  up 55 

Figures  Never  Lie — or,  What  is  a  figure,  and  who  cuts  it  ? . .     60 

"  Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast  " — or, 
Something  about  sangerfesting,  monkeys,  beer,  and  cat- 
music 66 

"  We  Want  but  Little  Here  Below,  nor  Want  that 
Little  Long  " — or,  About  our  wants  and  needs,  as  viewed 
from  a  sawbuck ■ 77 

"  Riding  ON  a  Rail  ; "  or,  Railroading  as  it  is — showing  up  the 
mysteries  of  the  eggs'-end-trick — what  sass  is — and  how 
railroad-men  "  discriminate  " 87 

"  Westward  the  Course  op  Empire  takes  Its  Wat." 
— what  Milton  (not  the  poet)  saith — and  "why  for"  he 
saith  it 99 

"  Homeward  the  Plowman  Plods  His  Weary  Way,  Etc" 
— or,  What  Jonas  "  knows  about  plowing  " — what  a  turn- 
over is,  and  who  makes  them — with  something  in  quotation, 
showing  how  a  man,  who  quotes  much,  doth  honor  (?)  to  him- 
self and  his  many  friends 109 

"Sympathy — the   Tear  that  Angels   SnED"  —  or,  What 

constitutes  a  sympathetic  man — what  pity  is 115 

"  Teetotal  Abstinence  " — or,  What  to  abstain  from — how  to 

make  wine — and  when  (only  a  little)  "  liquor  kills  " 122 

"  Virtue  is  Its  Own  Reward  " — or,  Something  about  con- 
science and  cattle-driving 125 


Contents.  g 

PAGE 

"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  His  Hire  " — or,  Who  is  the 

"  daddy  "  of  "  corruption  1" 129 

"  Laugh  and  Grow  Fat  " — or,  What's  in  a  laugh  ? 146 

"  You    Know    How    It    Is    Yourself  " — or,  What    may  be 

knowledge,  and  how  (?)  to  obtain  it 149 

Mashed  Potatoes — or,  About  life  and  lunch  baskets — Ire- 
land and  her  woes 158 

"Doing  Two  Things  at  Once" — or,  About  Jonas  Simpkins' 

folly,  and  maybe  somebody -else's  (so-called)  follies 165 

"  Every  Man  is  My  Brother,  Etc." — or,  Jonas'  letter  to  Josh.  173 

Nothing  About  Nothing — or,  Something  about  diversity  of 
opinion — Whose  troubles  hurt  us — or,  "  how  we  apples  do 
swim  " 183 

Old    Rye    and    Honey — or,  What  we  shall  drink  (?) — Jonas' 

family  prayer 188 

"Consistency    is    a    Jewel" — or,    Something   about    good 

mothers 195 

Politics — or,  How  to  save  a  country — who  does  it — and  how 

Jonas  votes  (scarcely  any) 200 

"There's  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  Our  Ends,  Etc." — or, 
Who- cares  for  the  kittens,  children,  and  fools  ? — what  the 
tools  of  destiny  are — and  how  a  "  flea  in  the  ear  "  works.. . .  208 

"  Contentment  is  Wealth  " — or,  How  to  pay  for  beef-steaks 

— where  Stewart  will  move  next  (in  fact,  his  "  next  move  ").  220 

Mottoes  for  Labor  (listen  to  Simpkins) 226 

To  "  Close   Up  " — the  end — the  "  ajoo  " — the  finale  (or,  how  to 

hang  your  harp  on  a  willow,  without  going  to  war  about  it).  229 

Errata — or,  Who  will  correct  (or  show  up)  my  faults  ?  Jonas 

saith 229 


TO  THE  READER 


This  little  ensuing  "  wollyum"  ain't  hankering  after 
"  sum"  excuse.  If  you  are,  make  it — for  yourself,  others, 
or  anybody — I  don't  care. 

It  don't  want  any  excuse,  i.  e.,  not  that  I  know  of.  It 
is  nothing  but  the  consolidated  rough  notes,  from  undi- 
gested ideas  from  the  careworn  (?)  brain  of  a  wood-sawyer, 
penned  down  in  rambling  style  by  an  inexperienced 
pen-wiper.  If  its  short  essays  (it  is  said  to  contain)  don't 
suit  the  intellectual  appetite  of  the  purchaser,  all  I  can 
say  is  that  it's  his,  her,  or  its  "  bad  luck,"  and  if  that 
person  wilt  show  wherein,  I  will  try  and  remedy  the 
faults  (if  not  too  many  and  if  I  can)  on  "  next  trip  of 
the  boat ; "  provided  "  that  person  "  or  the  friends  of  that 
person  will  "  agree  to  bind  themselves  "  to  sell  or  buy  the 
Second  Edition  ;  "  terms,  strictly  cash."  (It  should  not 
be  expected  of  a  man  that  can't  think  to  be  fully  able  to 
thoroughly  understand  all  he  reads.)  The  I's,  and  sev- 
eral "  they  are,"  are  all  mine,  and  if  "  sum  folks  "  don't 
like  my  I's  let  them  use  their  oAvn  (or  "  go  it  blind  ") 
and  skip  them  if  they  can  /  as  to  the  number  of  them 
(and  not  quoted  at  that)  they  are  "  all  right "  and  7'11  be 


12  To  the  Reader. 

"  kerchowsed  "  in  a  dam-med*  damp  creek  if  I  apology's.? 
for  them.     (Amen,  /golly.) 

If  you  don't  "  fancy  '  sum'  folks,"  just  imagine  they 
are  &msfolk  of  thine  and  I'll  warrant  "  it  will  give  you 
an  appetite  "  to  swallow  them  ("  horns,  hoofs,  hair,  and 
all ").  If  you  imagine  I  am  "  some  "  on  my  talk  about  my- 
self and  family,  please  recollect  that  a  man  that  "  talks 
more  about  his  neighbors  "  than  himself,  is  a  bad,  a  one- 
sided, lobsided  man,  and  not  much  fit  to  "  quote  from," 
and  a  wood-sawyer  that  don't  think  of  and  look  out  for 
his  family  a  good  deal,  aint  a  fit  slicer  of  cord-wood. 
("  That  man  what  don't  should  not  be  trusted.") 

If  you  find  the  "  King's  English  murdered"  (or  your 
neighbor's  laughing  or  crying)  as  to  either  the  spelling, 
etymology,  syntax,  or  prosody,  why  "just  you  don't"  be 
going  to  try  to  bring  it  to  life,  or  cure  it ;  for  if  you  do 
you'll  find  a  "  bigger  job  on  j^our  hands  "  than  even  the  try- 
ing to  digest  "  sum"  "  badly  chewed  hash."  If  I  don't  say 
what  you  think  I  mean,  just  "  make  it  so  "  with  a  little 
pencil :  and  if  I  don't  seem  to  say  "  what'  I  ought  to 
say,"  you  will  please  imagine  I  intended  (?)  to.  I  never 
"  bite  crab-apple  because  '  somebody '  says  it's  good,  but  if 
many  somebodys  were  to  say  it  were  good  I  always 
thought  there  might  be  some  slice  in  that  crab-apple  that 
would  suit  me  " — you  "  needn't  bite  (at)  it  tho',  if  you 
don't  like."  Crab-apple,  like  any  other  diet  (or  die-yet), 
when  forced  on  a  man,  is  very  hard  for  digesting  (or  to 
die-jesting.)  If,  then,  there  is  anything  in  this  little 
book  you  can't  like,  only  "  take  so  much  of  it  as  you  do 
like"  (as  most  creed  worshippers  do  their  Bible),  or  what 

*  Jonas  is  not  a  profane  man,  and  this  word  must  uot  be  construed 
as  damned. — (Ed.) 


To  the  Reader.  13 

suits  your  "  taste"  or  "  case,"  and  let  somebody  else 
"  have  the  next '  slice?  "  Maybe  you  don't  want  the  "slice" 
that  somebody  else  would  "  hanker  after."  Maybe  you 
"  don't  choose  any  :  "  if  you  don't,  "  touch  it  not ;"  I 
wouldn't,  never. 

If  any  one  desires  to  "  raise  a  little  row,"  about  what 
is  "  writ"  down  in  this  little  book,  their  neighbors  may 
"  seem  to  know  "  that  the  "  bellicose  "  party  is  badly  hit, — 
and  if  hit,  hit  correctly.  The  "  wood-sawyer  "  has  freshly 
whetted  his  saw  for  any  such  contest,  and  hereby  declares 
himself  prepared  for  a  duet  or  duel  either,  with  any 
such  party ;  he  would  state,  tho',  that  he  never  chal- 
lenges anybody,  and  that  if  anybody  wishes  to  fight  him, 
a  saw  must  be  the  weep-on  and  a  saw-buck  the  feel-d*  of 
contention.  My  motto  is,  "All  dangers  ain't  death. 
Come  on ! "  If  the  world  only  laughs,  tho',  why  then  the 
wood-saw-yer  would  seem  to  "  oughter  "  laugh  with  them. 
He'd  then  lay  his  wood-saw  (would-s&w)  to  one  side  like 
to  await  the  next  order  for  slicing  cord-wood. 

There  is  "  sum"  "  consolation  "  for  every  one  in  the 
following  essays,  if  they  only  peruse  thro'  carefully 
(thinking  while  they  read)  and  not  "  skip  any" — even 
unto  the  "  a-joo."  The  bitters  in  it  are  (as  they  like 
"  bitters  ")  only  for  hypocrites  and  pretenders. 

If  some  of  the  language  in  this  book  seems  somewhat 
rough,  you  must  recollect  it  comes  more  from  a  warm 
heart  than  (s)cold  lips,  and  hence,  if  poorly  expressed, 
means  well,  except  to  "  them  hypocrites."  (If  everybody- 
's^ follies  have  been  struck  at,  so  have  those  of  Jojias.) 
With  a  sincere  desire  that  the  publisher  may  be  able  to 
make  "  sum"  mashed  potatoes  out  of  the  sale  of  "  sum 

*  Jonas  means  field,  I  guess. — {Ed.) 


14  To  the  Reader. 

of  which,"  and  that  it  may  "  provoke  "  a  smile  from  you, 
I  am 

yours  serenely 

JONAS  SIMPKINS. 

P.  S.  I  believe  ("  seems  like  I  do  at  least ")  that  Swine- 
tax  is  better  to  enable  a  little  town  to  pay  its  little  (?) 
debts  with,  than  it  are  for  a  wonld-saw-yer  to  write 
some  little  book  with. 

JONAS  SIMPKINS. 


TO    THE   PUBLISHER 


As  you  bear  the  "heat  and  burden  of  the  day"  in  tak- 
ing upon  yourself  the  issuing  in  print  of  the  scribble  of 
Jonas  Simpkins,  the  wood-sawyer,  you  are  the  one  to 
whom  apology  is  due.  I  "  compensate  "  by  advice 
"  unax'd" 

You  can  undoubtedly  "  hoe  your  own  row,"  (but  if  it 
were  me)  I'd  not  emboss  this '  wollyum '  very  heavily ;  but 
rather,  put  it  in  sound,  simple  cover — and  let  it  depend 
on  its  own  "mere-its"  for  its  life.  It  may  answer  for  a 
"  Composition  book "  for  youthful  writers  of  mature 
years  to  quote  (?)  from  :  or  a  primer  for  the  senior  class  of 
"sum"  Harvard  to  "think"  by y  or  as  a  commentary  on 
"things  as  they  be,"  for  "sum"  theological  student  to 
"  thumb  "over :  or  a  "  hand-guide  "  for  "  sum  "  very  wise  (?) 
business  men  to  trade  by.  As  to  it's  being  handed  down 
to  the  3d  generation,  I  am  not  ambitious,  and  I  am  not, 
at  present,  thinking  that  it  will  be — unless  some  unfortu- 
nate mortal  should  imagine  me  inspired,  like  Joe  Miller 
or  "sum  sich,"  and  "  pass  me  down  "  as  the  "  Humbug  " 
writer  (righter — no ! !)  of  the  19th  (s)  cent-try  (so-called). 
Tours,  sympathizingly, 

JONAS  SIMPKINS. 


5IMPKHSTS    DEPUTIZES    A    FKIEKD. 


This  "  wollyum  "*  tviII  be  edited  (it  is  imagined)  by  my  disinter- 
ested Mend, "  anxious  questioner,"  appreciative  listener,  and  scribe, 

BEN.  E.  G.  JEWETT, 

who  has  hinted  for  me  to  "  put  my  (sayings  and  doings)  into  print," 
and  if  any  should  "  wish  to  hear  from  me,"  they  may  address  me 
thro'  "  his  care  " — and  if  they  don't  /cake  not. 

JONAS  SIMPKINS. 

P.  S. — A  portion  of  this  work  was  sketched  in  my  diary  pre- 
viously, and  the  other  part  was  "  taken  down,"  from  remarks  made 
in  answer  to  questions  asked,  by  my  scribe-ish  friend.  He  seemed 
so  interested  in  me  that  I  consider  him  as  my  "second  self"  (after 
Salty  Jane — my  wife — of  course)  and  he  is  authorized  to  act  in 
this  matter  (the  printing  of  it)  in  my  behalf  as  if  I  were  present, 
and  he  and  I  will  "  fix  it  between  us"  (as  to  results).' 

J.  S. 

To  the  Public  : — 

As  stated  above,  I  am  the  authorized  agent  of  Mr.  Simpkins  (to 
do  for  him  as  may  be  best),  and  consequently  I  have  about  followed 
copy — thereby  throwing  the  responsibility  of  the  sentiment  and 
structure  of  the  language  on  him — let  the  critics  fight  him.  lie  has 
authorized  me  to  state  that  he  can  "  back  his  assertions  "  witli  tes- 
timony as  staunch  as  historic  truth.  He  also  says  he  intends  in  the 
next  edition  of  this  work  to  "  embalm  "  the  names  of  those  who  are 
kind  enough  to  help  this  thro',  as  he  deems  that  true  sympathy  is 
better  than  much  talk,  and  rather  quote  actions  than  words  of  men 
(and  he  is  some  on  quote — of  that  kind — you  may  see). 

B.  E.  G.  JEWETT. 

*  Jonas  means  volume,  no  doubt. 


HUMBUG    AS    A    BEVEBAGE. 


Tat,  kaughphy,  shocky-late,*  milk,  water,  watered  milk, 
old  rye  and  honey,  schnapps,  cordials,  ("  for  our  fears  ") 
lager,  and  many  other  liquids,  have  been  in  repute  for 
many,  very  many  years  past,  and  are  still  known  to  a 
"  phew  "  of  the  civileyesed  (?)  world  as  drinkables — so- 
called. 

But  of  all  beverages,  so-called,  that  seem  to  rank  as  of  an 
ancient  origin,  and  still  retain  the  "  brightness  of  their 
glory  "  even  down  to  the  present  day,  among  bond  and 
free,  "  haythen "  and  learned,  "  Humbug  "  is  the  most 
noted.  This  is  the  most  popular,  yet  the  least  palatable 
of  all  swalloivables — and,  seemingly  strange,  when  least 
pleasant,  as  to  the  tickling  of  "  sum  "  throat,  more  often 
the  popularest — and  partakes  somewhat  of  the  qualities 
of  that  '*  bibifyer,"  lager,  the  Dutchman's  "  sine-qua- 
non." 

It  is  something  that  is  soon  digested ;  and  hence,  like 
water-melon,  or  oyster-soup,  the  more  a  man  (he)  takes 
aboard,  the  more  he  may  continue  to  "  hanker  after  " 
"  sum  of  which."  It  was,  by  our  present  accounts,  tirst 
brought  into  use  by  one  Adam  (who  didn't  care  for 
A-dam)  by  accepting  of  the  drink  from  his  female 
cohort — one  Eve — and  is  likely  to   continue  muchly  in 

*  Jonas  undoubtedly  intended  tea,  coffee,  and  chocolate,  but  used 
foreign  spelling  then. — (Ed.) 


1 8  Humbug  as  a  Beverage. 

demand  until  the  "  very  last  man "  departs  to  that 
bourne  whence  Adam  ne'er  returned — at  least  so  far  as 
Livingstone  or  Beecher,  Mark  Twain  or  Epluribus 
Unum,  have  as  yet  informed  us. 

It  abounds,  and  rebounds,  and  confounds  "  among, 
around,  amidst,  athwart,  and  according  to  " — all  appear- 
ances ;  and  is  equally  acclimated  in  all  climes. 

A  negro  might  get  sick  in  Kamschatka  and  make  a 
good  die  of  it,  but  not  so  with  "  Humbug ;  "  or  if  it 
seemed  to  do,  why,  two  or  more  of  them — like  flies  of 
a  rainy  day,  or  lies  of  a  court  week,  general-muster- 
day,  or  election  times — seem  to  derive  their  existence 
from  said  decease.  A  man  that  takes  upon  himself  to 
try  to  abolish  the  use  of  this  celebrated  drink,  has  got  a 
"  big  job"  in  the  killing  off  of  all  the  darned  fools  first  ; 
and,  if  he  were  a  friend  of  mine,  I  would  advise  him 
to  go  to  "sum"  convenient  junk  shop,  buy  him  a  small 
piece  of  rope  (the  smaller  the  better — so  that  none 
might  be  waisted)  and,  after  selecting  a  "  handy"  favo- 
rite tree,  hang  himself. 

[I  have  always  seemed  to  notice  that  men  frequently 
fail  in  hanging  themselves  successfully,  from  the  want. 
of  a  favorite  tree  being  handy  (?) — their  horticultural 
taste  seems  to  become  very  fastidious  just  about  that 
time — but  whenever  I  find  I've  got  to  hang  I'd  just  as 
soon  take  to  a  dogwood  sapling  as  anything  else  (the 
variety  shan't  particularly  interfere  at  all) ;  but  I'd  say 
just  here  that  I  still  hope  my  many  friends  (?)  will  put 
it  off  as  long  and  as  far  as  possible.] 

The  reason  I'd  advise  this  hanging  business,  under  the 
circumstances,  is  to  prevent  the  "  abolishioner "  from 
learning  too  late  (?)  "  that  there  is  one  fool  left,"  or  that 


Humbug  as  a  Beverage.  19 

his  efforts  to  reform  the  drinkers  have  brought  upon  him 
foes  enough  to  eat  him  up — that  the  dragon  teeth, 
planted  for  the  growth  of  armed  men,  to  destroy  others, 
have  turned  upon,  to  destroy,  annihilate,  etc.,  himself 
alone.  There  are  several  different  styles  of  "  getting 
up  "  this  beverage,  and  hence  it  bears  different  names  : 

1st.  Humbug — "  per  se." 

2d.  Humbug— invented,  and  hence,  "  non  per  se." 

And  there  are  different  names  given  drink-mixers 
of  this  concoction — two  of  which  are, 

1st.  Humbug  proper-gander-ists.* 

2d.  Humbug  abolish-onion-ists.f 

Connected  with  one  of  which  drink-mixers,  most  every 
one  is  "  sumwhat,"  partly — or,  if  not  connected,  at  least 
acquainted  slightly  (?). 

One  says,  "  I  don't  swallow  '  tay  ' ;  "  another,  "  Nor  I 
'  kaughphy' ;  "  another  one,  "  No  rye  coffee ;  "  another 
one,  "  No  schnapps,  nor  lager,  nor  old  rye  and  honey." 

But  there  is  no  one  (that  I  know  of)  that  can  truth- 
fully, square-footedly,  head-erect-and-eyes-to-the-front- 
edly,  say  that  he  don't  take  or  has  not  at  some  time, 
heretofore,  taken  to  "  Humbug  "  as  naturally  as  "  your 
Uncle  Jonas  "  does  to  old  rye  and  honey,  as  a  duck  to 
water,  as  an  infant  to  squalling,  as  a  matronly  mother  to 
spanking,  as  a  fool  to  parting  his  hair  in  the  centre  and 
quoting  "  kiss-candy  "  poetry,  or  as  a  strictly-temperate 
(?)  church  elder  (of  "  sum  "  fashionable  church — seats 
free)  does  to  the  bitters  of  a  sympathetic  druggist. 
Most  every  one  takes  it  constantly  and  straight.  If, 
within  twelve   months    after  perusing  this  work,   any 

*  Jonas  must  have  meant  propagandists. 
t  Jonas  surely  intended  abolitionists. 


20  Humbug  as  a  Beverage 


<3 


person  shall  be  willing  to  certify— and  prepared  to  prove — 
that  they  haven't  taken  to  "  sum  "  "  Humbug  "  as  uncom- 
promisedly  as  a  rat  does  to  "  sum  "  old  cheese,  I  am  pre- 
pared to  offer  them,  thro'  my  editorial  friend,  a  bottle  of 
Simpkins'  aromatic,  as  a  reward  of  merit  and  a  gentle  per- 
fume for  "  sum  "  soiled  pocket-handkerchief  of  their'n. 

You  will  hear  of  "  Simpkins'  aromatics,"  excellence 
as  you  read  some  subsequent  article. 

Your  Uncle  Jonas,  like  the  most  of  mankind,  has  been 
darned  fool  enough,  more  than  once  in  his  eventful  life, 
to  partake  of  this  beverage,  "  Humbug ; "  and  he  still 
expects,  from  all  appearances,  to  have  to  record  on  the 
tablet  of  his  memory  more  instances  of  this  back-handed 
foresightedness  during  his  "  sojourn  here." 

(By-the-bye  !  gentle  reader,  did  you  ever  see  a  temper- 
ance man,  so-called,  take  a  drink  %  You  say,  "  Oh,  no  ! " 
"Well,  you  ought — for  it  are  just  the  best  piece  of  acting 
you  ever  saw — and  I  am  going  to  "  call  it  up  "  for  your 
benefit. 

I  saw  one  once,  and  it  will  do  me  a  life-time.  He 
reminded  me,  figuratively  speaking,  of  a  giant  going  to 
wring  the  neck  off  of  "  sum  "  little  "  Lilliput,"  as  he 
strode  forward  majestically,  seized  the  neck  of  the  offend- 
ing bottle,  and  (with  "  dire  thoughts  intent" — his  soul 
at  war)  passed  it  to  his  lips— taking  full  grip  with  his 
teeth  that  not  a  drop  might  spill — and  demolished  it, 
or  rather  the  liquor  within  it. 

Yes !  he  demolished,  made  way  with,  destroyed  the 
same  to  its  "  very  last  drop,"  and  to  his  own  great  satis- 
faction— if  you  might  judge  from  the  "  smacking  of 
his  lips  e'en  down  to  the  pit  of  his  stomach,"  as  the 
beverage  went  warbling  swiftly  downward. 


Humbug  as  a  Beverage.  2 1 

The  stroke  of  his  paunch  by  his  leisurely  right  hand 
— for  the  left  clung  to  the  bottle  yet — spoke  in  silent 
whisperings :  "  Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  ser- 
vant," etc.) 

This  taking  of  "  Humbug  "  on  the  sly,  is  a  mighty  big 
thing  to  most,  but  not  to — a  man  that  can't  write  much 
poetry. 

Some  folks  don't  like  to  own  that  they  take  "  Hum- 
bug "  in  thews,  any  more  than  that  they  were  once  "  bit  " 
by  a  blind  cur  ;  but  what  does  it  "  better  make  "  when 
they  have  been  bit  and  everybody  knows  it.  Humbug 
has  an  acidly-sweet,  serenely-bitter  taste,  and  altho'  it 
never  kills,  yet  it  is  sometimes  very  nauseating. 

This  nauseatingness  may  be  very  beneficial  "sum-* 
times ; "  causing  us  to  throw  up,  in  gentle  heaps,  the 
bad  bile  within  us,  and  making  us  to  comprehend,  by 
comparison  like,  the  beauties  not  only  of  some  truth, 
but  also  those  of  a  "good  square  meal"  of  cod-fish  balls 
and  turnip  greens. 

I  seem  to  know,  tho',  that  (from  sad  experience,  too) 
after  the  meal  is  over,  we  are  as  apt  to  as  cheerfully 
seek  Humbug's  society  again  as  the  Esquimaux  does  that 
of  his  seal-fat,  or  a  well-trained  Teuton  does  that 
of  "  sum  "  sour-trout. 

My  honest  belief  is  that,  from  humbugs  and  bilious 
fever,  the  best  preventive,  or  cure,  is  old  rye  and  honey, 
(in  occasional  doses) — or  at  least  next  best  to  a  legiti- 
mate dose  of  strychnine,  well-prepared  by  a  diploma' d 
druggist.  The  old  rye  will  wash  out  all  old  scores,  but 
the  strychnine  will  generally — if  properly  given — pretty 
effectually  eradicate  any  tendency  to  imbibe  in  the  least, 
for  time  to  come  (to  "  sumbody  "  else). 


22  Humbug  as  a  Beverage. 

The  wherefor  of  which  we  may  live  to  learn. 

P.  S. — After  much  careful  meditation,  I  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  in  taking  strychnine  (if  I  had  it  to  do) 
I'd  not  consider  so  much  whether  the  druggist  that  put 
it  up  were  diploma'd,  as  I  would  that,  from  not  having 
killed  "  more  than  a  dozen  "  in  a  lifetime  (by  his  artis- 
tic (?)  preparations),  he  might  have  obtained  some  rea- 
sonable amount  of  experience  in  mixing  deadly  drugs. 
This,  tho',  is  just  as  "sum  "  people  are  pleased  to  think. 
"  Suit  yourself  and  you  suit  me,"  as  a  man's  reflection  in  a 
mirror  once  said  to  the  man,  as  he  was  "  fitting  himself 
up  "  with  "  sum  "  new  clothes. 

"  Sum  "  would  continue  to  buy  baking  powder  of 
"  sum  "  druggist  (diploma'd)  if  they  knew  he  was  giving 
them  m^senic. 

Maybe  the  druggist  hwws  they  want  arsenic  when, 
before  others,  they  call  for  baking  powder. 

Who  knows  ? — Not  Jonas. 

N".  B. — I  don't  wish  to  be  a  Humbug  "  proper-gander," 
nor  a  Humbug  "  abolishioner  ;  "  the  1st  is  a  public  nui- 
sance, and  the  2nd  meets  with  "  such  sudden  death." 


"TKTJTH   IS   MIGHTY   AND    WILL 
PKEYAIL." 


The  above  is  the  assertion  of  "  sum  "  one,  but  whether 
he  ever  proved  it  or  not,  in  the  period  allotted  him  for 
living,  I  would  not  like  to  undertake  to  say — not  quite 
yet.  In  his  own  limited  experience — your  Uncle  Jonas 
has  not  been  able  to  explore  into  the  dim  mysteries 
of  futurity  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  bring  back  any  satisfac- 
tory answer — for  many  inquiring  friends — as  to  the  ques- 
tion, "  When,  and  at  what  '  prezactly  excise '  time  will 
Truth  ('  the  party  of  the  first  part,'  as  hereinbefore  pre- 
viously stated)  'come  it  over'  the  other  side?" 

My  friends  must  wait  with  patience ;  maybe  time  will 
show.  "  Sum  "  persons  seem  to  think  that  it  has  already 
"  gone  and  done  it,"  and  will  continue  to  "  go  on  doing 
it"  to  the  end  of  the  chapter;  and  that  the  fellow  that 
started  the  above  quotation,  knew  as  little  about  what 
constituted  "Truth"  as  a  "two-headed  calf"  knows  of 
the  taste  of  well-biled  pineapple,  or  a  "tow-headed 
youth  "  about  Euclid. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  "  Truth  "  (with  a  little 
old  rye  and  honey  mixed — to  make  it  slip  good)  would 
almost  always  in  the  end  prevail ;  and  although  my  lim- 
ited years  have  not  enabled  me  to  establish  the  fact  to 
my  own  definite  satisfaction,  yet  I  somehow  still  believe 
it  will.     There  is  one  thing,  out  of  many  (E-pluribus- 


24  "  Truth  is  Mighty  and  will  Prevail." 

unmn-like),  that  I  have  noticed,  tho' ;  and  that  one  thin-/ 
is  just  this,  that  the  washerwoman  that  proceeds  to  ge: 
the  dirt  out  of  "  sum  "  old  clothes,  with  the  aid  of"  sum  " 
lye,  has  to  do  "  sum  "  cleansing  by  rinsing  them  over  in 
"  sum  "  cold  wafer. 

Lie  may  be  good  to  bamboozle  fools  with,  but  it  is  not 
a  "  rale  "  good  cleanser  for  "  sum  "  dirty  clothes. 
C  Truth  may  be  like  a  cold-water  bath  to  "  sum  folks," 
making  them  "cringe  all  over;"  but  lie,  if  used  often 
(and  if  used,  at  all  will  soon  be  of  often  use)  will  get 
"  sum  "  folks  in  consarned  "  hot  water  "  before  they  are 
through  with  it.  \ 

There  have  been  (I  understand)  many  learned  and 
scientific  discussions  on  or  about  what  might  be  "  Truth," 
or  what  might  not  be  Truth  ;  but,  whenever  I  got  to  hear 
any  of  them,  I  seemed  to  notice  that  they — the  dis- 
cussers, so-called — leave  us  about  as  thoroughly  satisfied, 
concerning  the  topic  in  consideration,  as  a  very  hungry 
man  might  be  with  "just  a  smell"  of  "sum"  fried 
onions,  or  a  distant  glance  at  a  nicely  turned  roast.  "  It 
is  true  it  is  a  pity,  and  'tis  pity  that  'tis  true." 

I  can  say  this  last  with  a  heartfelt  encore ;  especially 
when  I  recollect  how  last  fall,  three  years  ago,  Sally 
Jane — my  wife — kicked  me  down  the  back  stairs  for 
venturing  to  disagree  with  her  as  to  the  "  divine  in- 
spiration "  of  her  worthy  pastor,  Rev.  Sol.  Noodle. 

Sally  Jane  is  usually  a  very  "  mild-mannered "  wo- 
man's-rights-woman,  but  on  the  subject  of  truth  "  she 
has  her  idea  "  (of  which  I  don't  hanker  after  any  more), 
and,  like  most  of  the  rest  of  her  kind,  runs  crazy  over  a 
dog-ma  or  a  divinely-inspired  (poodle?) —  and,  vowing 
his  utterances,  or  the  creed,  is  as  full  of  truth  as  an 


"  Truth  is  Mighty  and  will  Prevail."  25 

egg  is  of  meat  (?),  she  swallows  away,  never  looking  nor 
caring,  until  she  gets  "  sum  "  bad  "  choke  "  from  the  hasty 
attempt  to  gulp  down  the  embryo  form  of  "sum  onhappy 
chick." 

Then,  and  Hil  then  only,  they  cry  out,  "  "What  a  pity." 

("Having  been  there,"  partly,  myself,  I  would  not 
object  to  saying,  that  usually  the  palate  is  not  so  much 
refreshed  after  a  large  dose  of  "  sum  "  chick  as  it  might 
be  after  partaking  of  "  sum  "  ice  cream  "  or  sich.") 

"  Sum  "  say  that  "  Truth  is  fact,"  and  ever  since 
that  back  stair  tumble,  of  over  "  three  years  last  past," 
I  have  had  a  present iment  that  it  might  be  so  :  at  any 
rate  I  have  never  attempted  (from  that  time  to  this)  to 
argue  to  my  spouse  on  that  particular  subject. 

In  fact  I  pick  my  man  now,  when  I  want  to  do  "sum  " 
argue. 

Most  of  writers  are  as  good  at  guessing  at  what  Truth 
is  as  they  would  be  at  reckoning  exactly  about  the  num- 
ber of  hairs  on  a  black  cat's  tail. 

If  you  were  to  give  them  the  number  of  hairs  per  inch 
("  to  start  with  ")  and  the  number  of  inches  per  tail  ("to 
back  it  up  with  "  )  they  might  possibly — by  consulting 
Emerson — be  able  to  figure  out  a  near-sighted  solution, 
"  after  awhile ; "  but  gitting  at  the  facts,  as  to  the 
measurement,  is  the  trouble.  At  least  it  were  so  with 
"  Yours  Truly." 

"When  I  was  young  they  used  to  tell  me  a  little  story 
— my  parents  did — about  the  rats  holding  a  meeting  and 
determining  to  bell  the  cat,  but  that,  upon  probing 
around  to  find  out  who'd  the  belling  do,  no  rat  anxious 
as  to  fame  (in  that  way)  could  be  found  to  undertake  the 
enterprise. 


26  "  Truth  is  Mighty  and  will  Prevail!1 

So  we  are  all  desirous  to  find  out  about  "sum" 
truth ;  but  none  so  "  anxious  "  as  to  attempt  the  search 
on  "  our  own  account." 

"  Once  on  a  time,"  tho',  for  the  sake  of  truth  and 
benefit  of  science  (?),  I  attempted  to  "  demonstrate  "  by 
"  taking  in  hand  "  the  tail  of  "  sum  "  very  black  cat  (I 
thought,  I  suppose,  the  blacker  the  cat  the  greater  the 
truth),  that  roams  near  by  my  humble  hut  after  the  stray 
bits  which  my  very  interesting  children  don't  leave 
(for  the  reason  that  all  of  the  provender  my  "  much- 
abused  progeny  "  ever  obtain,  comes  to  them  in  bits 
much  astray). 

I  found  that  truth  obtained  thro'  the  medium  of  cat's 
tail — even  if  it  were  a  black  cat — were  very  unreliable 
for  the  world  at  large  to  depend  upon,  and  very  uninter- 
esting for  the  seeker-after-truth  himself. 

That  particular  cat's  tail  was  very  flexible  (for  if  you 
succeeded  in  counting  the  hairs  per  inch — which  were 
mighty  hard  work— you  were  sure  to  be  fooled,  as  to  the 
holding  of  that  "  caudal "  appendage,  when  you  attempted 
to  measure  the  length  by  inches)  ;  and  that  'special  cat's 
claws  wan't  flexible  worth  the  jingle  of  a  pewter  nickle 
(as  various  scars  on  my  arms  will  attest) ;  and  besides 
its  mewing — or  moughing — woke  the  baby,  and  the  baby 
woke  Sally  Jane  (the  latter  tremendously,  overwhelm- 
ingly awakened). 

I  didn't  succeed  in  counting  that  cat's  "  latter  "  hairs, 
you  bet,  and  in  consequence  1  am  not  so  enthusiastic  in 
searching  for  the  truth  (in  that  way,  at  least)  as  I  once 
was ;  and  unless  I  succeed  in  finding  "  sum  "  cat  more 
devoted  to  scientific  investigation  than  the  last  one  was, 
I  believe  I  shall  permit  truth  and  science — if  they  can, 


"  Trutli  is  Mighty  and  will  Prevail."  27 

and  I  guess  they  can  if  age  is  any  surety — take  care  of 
themselves. 

My  "  principal  time  "  (and  the  interest  portion  too)  is 
devoted  to  trying  to  find  out  (by  letting  others  experi- 
ment) as  to  what  "  Truth  "  is. 

N.  B.  1.  Logical  Sequence,  as  saith  the  preacher  (whom. 
I  axed  on  the  subject  of  truth) ;  "  Trooth  is  mighty,  old 
cheese  is  mite-y,  therefore,  old  cheese  must  be  '  trooth' 
or  '  trooth  '  must  lie  in  old  cheese.  Now,  as  old  cheese 
only  prevails  greatly  in  Dutch  communities,  therefore,  in 
their  midst  must  '  trooth  '  also  prevail." 

Not  knowing  but  what  he  may  be  right,  I  have  moved 
Sally  Jane  and  the  children  to  one  of  which  and  am 
going  to  invest  my  remaining  5c.  (after  supplying  them 
in  enough  (?)  "  mashed  potatoes  ")  in  "  sum"  old  cheese — 
not  for  the  sake  of  the  cheese,  but  for  the  sake  of  the 
Tkutii  in  the  cheese. 

P.  S.  1.  It  were  a  "patent  Christian"  who  made  the 
remark — which  should  be  very  patent  to  every  observer 
— in  N.B.  1.,  and,  therefore,  after  settling  down,  I  may 
find  myself  deceived,  and  if  I  are,  I  shall  bet  on  old 
cheese  and  "  patent  Christians  "  no  more  forever. 

N.  B.  2.  I  have  often  noticed  that  "patent  Chris- 
tians" (i.e.,  creed  worshippers,  who  don't  live  up  to  what 
they  preach — no  !  not  in  the  smallest  way)  war'n't,  gene- 
rally speaking,  much  else  but  "  humbugs ;  "  and  if  they 
make  such  mistakes  about  "  old-cheese-and-truth,"  as 
they  do  about  the  supposed  history  of  ancients  and  their 
doings,  their  lost  arts  and  sciences,  creeds  and  beliefs, 
why,  I  just  hope  that  the  "  patent  Christian"  I 
hearkened  unto  ain't  like  'em — if  he  are  "  my  monish*is 
gone,"  "sure  as    shooting."     If  he  warn't  right,  and  I 


28  "  Truth  is  Mighty  and  will  Prevail." 

iind  that  "  Truth  "  don't  necessarily  dwell  in  the  land 
that  old  cheese  is  lying  about  in,  I  hope,  at  least,  that  I 
may  be  on  hand  at  the  time  and  place  it  does  prevail. 

There  is  a  saying  that,  "  All  things  will  be  right  when 
they  are  washed."  I  await,  with  patience,  that  "  washing- 
day." 

P.  S.  2.  I've  seemed  to  notice  that  to  be  a  "  patent 
Christian,"  as  described  above,  is,  as  far  as  man's  finest 
instincts  are  concerned,  as  disgustingly  nauseating  as  for 
a  small  boy  to  learn  how  to  "  chaw  "  liquorice  ;  but  to  be- 
lieve in  the  truths  of  nature — outside  of  creed — as  natu- 
ral and  exhilarating  as  it  is  to  receive  "  sum"  of  the  first 
kiss  of  love  from  the  lips  of  "  sum  "  youthful  maiden. 

1ST.  B.  3.  Your  Uncle  Jonas  has  been  very  desirous 
to  obtain  a  little  hold  on  some  great  truth  ever  since  he 
were  a  very  small  boy  ;  but  there  has  seemed  to  be  but 
very  little  of  it  afloat  for  either  sale  or  generous  distri- 
bution. 

Sometimes  I  have  imagined  that  I  had  gotten  posses- 
sion of  a  small  fragment  of  it ;  but  it  generally  turned 
out,  like  the  miner's  gold,  "  more  dirt  and  rock  than 
1  real  stuff. '  " 


FOURTH  OF  JULY. 


!Now,  as  this  is  a  great  and  glorious  day,  so-called,  as  I 
was  penning  these  memory  sketches,  it  seemed  necessary 
to  make  "  sum"  few  remarks  (like)  about  this  festive  day. 

Everybody  seems  to  be  possessed  with  a  strong  desire 
to  either  cellar-brate,*  or  have  cellar-brated,  this  so-called 
natal  day  of  America's  independence  (?). 

I  do  it  by  partly  writing  up  something — per-ad venture, 
per-haps. 

It  is  generally  supposed  that  Americans  in  general, 
and  the  Simpkins  family  in  particular,  are,  or  ought  to 
be,  especially  thankful  on  that  day.  The  why  for  which 
I  know  not ;  but  the  apparent  eagerness,  by  our  acquaint- 
ances, that  ice  should,  is  most  overwhelmingly  certain. 

As  to  the  Simpkins  family,  I  suppose  it  partakes  of 
your  Uncle  Jonas's  nature — and  that  they  proceed  to  be 
patriotic,  to  the  full  extent  of  their  pocketbook  and  ut- 
most capacity  of  their  stomach,  on  that  day. 

I  have  often  wondered,  tho',  why  most  of  people,  and  if 
not  other  folks  why  Jonas  should,  spend  their  last  stray 
copper,  and  overgorge  their  stomachs  (to  starve  a  week 
after)  on  that  day ;  •  but  I  guess,  as  the  jolly  Patrick  is 
bound  to  have  his  St.  Patrick's  day,  and  the  sober  Teuton 
his  "  blue  Monday,"  so  Americans,  so-called,  think  they 
must  have  "  sum"  4th  of  July. 

*  We  have  an  idea  tbat  Jonas  means  celebrate. — {Ed.) 


30  Fourtli  of  July. 

But  as  to  Americans,  I'll  go  a  brass  button  that  the 
original  breed — the  American  Indian — ain't  muchly  glad 
worth  speaking  of,  and,  to  tell  the  plain  truth,  I  don't 
now  seem  to  think  that  there  is  much  for  the  wherefor 
he  should  be. 

If  trading  off — nolens-volens — one's  real  estate,  and 
one's  children's  real  estate,  for  dried  corn,  red  cotton 
handkerchiefs,  glass  beads,  and  forty-rod-charcoal  whis- 
key, constitutes  happiness  and  independence,  why,  then 
perhaps  (?)  they  ought  to  "  paint  up  "  heavy  in  the  hon- 
or of  this  glorious  day — so-called.  But  some  seem  to 
believe  that  it  don't.  Whether  they  are  right  or  not, 
who  knows  ? 

"  What  constituted  an  American,  so-called,  ninety-six 
agone  ?  "  and  "  What  constitutes  an  American  in  this 
year  of  our  Lord  ?  " — so-called — would  seem  to  be  ques- 
tions possessed  of  nearly  as  much  possibility  of  discus- 
sion as  "  what  might  be  the  most  direct,  the  shortest 
cut  to  Paradise,"  or  "  what  would  be  the  surest  cure 
for  big-headedness  " ;  and,  unless  he  is  a  mixture  of  a 
various  breeds,  the  Simpkinses  have  authorized  your 
Uncle  Jonas  to  say  that  they  are  then  not  much  posted 
concerning  which. 

As  to  big-headedness — as  a  nation  the  American  peo- 
ple, so-called,  seem  greatly  afflicted  with  it :  they  express 
in  actions,  if  not  in  words,  the  sentiments,  as  once  put 
forth  by  a  little  three-year-old  of  our  acquaintance  who 
called  her  mother's  attention  to  the  fact  of  "  How  big 
she  had  grown,  and  she  growed  it  cdl  herself." 

(j  have  seen  many,  so-called,  "  self-made-men  "  who 
could  not  have  even  built  a  correct  sparrow's  nest,  much 
less  their  own  fortunes ;  and,  if  it  were  really  known. 


Fourth  of  July.  31 

their  fortunes  would  be  found  to  have  been  the  result 
of  well-ordered  circumstances,  just  as  much  as  the  gor- 
geous formation  of  a  "  high  and  mighty  "  sunflower  is 
allowed  to  be^) 

What  independence  consists  of  seems  equally  a  mooted 
subject — some  are  "  mute  "  on  it.  To  fight  (and  whip)  the 
English,  Hessians,  lire,  water,  rats,  "  dogs  "  and  "  croco- 
diles," ain't  perhaps  such  hard  work  as  fighting  against 
unjust  gain  and  depraved  consciences  and  superstitious 
ignorance,  or  contending  for  some  little  "  chunks  of 
bread  "  without  debasing  one's  self-respect  ("  sum  uns" 
don't  count  self-respect  nothing — and  as  to  them  I  don't 
believe  it  is).  There's  more  "  blood  spilt "  than  glory 
gained  by  fighting  for  a  glorious  fame  ;  and  more  slights 
received  than  fame  obtained  in  the  contention  for  "  the 
rights  of  oppressed  humanity."  (If  I  succeed  in  help- 
ing the  lowly,  the  fame  I  expect  to  get  the  hold  of 
won't  be  "  the  worth  while  for  you  "  to  "  hanker  after.") 

I'd  rather  to  pitch,  Don  Quixotically,  into  some  real 
or  imaginary  wind-mills — "  without  even  spurs  or 
paper-collar"  on — or  to  try  to  stand  still  on  a  moving 
tread-mill,  or  read  a  German  newspaper  with  my  feet 
(on  the  floor — yea!  of  course  on  the  floor)  than  to  be 
independent  after  the  fashion  of  "  sum  "  folks. 

What  we  are  trying  to  "  harp  on  "  now — just  at  this 
moment,  tho',  is  not  "  What  independence  is"  nor 
"  What  an  American  may  be"  but  what  the  4th  of  July 
(so-called)  might  be. 

This  day  is  "  cellar-brated "  in  the  "  old-fashioned 
style" — viz.,  with  pop-corns,  pop-crackers,  pop-guns, 
and  little  (paper)  bon-fires — by  deluded  youths  between 
the    age    of    5    and    15.      Older    boys,    between    the 


32  Fourth  of  July. 

periods  of  15  and  25,  rejoice  in  the  firing  {at  each 
other)  of  bon-mots,  bon-bons  and  pop-bottle  corks. 
Those  persons  rejoicing  in  the  passing  of  so  much  time 
as  entitles  them  to  be  styled  "  from  25  to  50,"  console 
themselves  by  spending  the  time  in  much  drink- 
ing, singing,  attending  horse-races,  and  betting  on  the 
run.  There  are  a  "  few  persons "  between  50  and 
100,  or  1  and  5 — as  to  the  period  that  they  have 
seemed  et  to  breathe  " — that  delight  (sometimes)  to  stay 
at  home,  eating  their  crackers  and  rolling  on  some  grass, 
("like — ")  and  "  watching  the  row"  from  afar. 

To  spend  the  4th  of  July  correctly,  (according  to 
"  sum  "  folks  idea)  you  must  "  take  a  little  something." 
And  the  most  patriotic  (Pat-riot-ic)  something  to  take  is 
beer  (for  altho'  it  don't  do  a  Dutchman  any  harm  to 
drink  beer,  it  makes  an  Irishman  "  kick  up  thunder  " — 
no  sensible  Irishman  will  whiskey  his  beer,  beer  his 
whiskey,  or  "  go  beer  straight " — I  can't  claim  to  be  an 
Irishman,  as  to  the  beer,  tho'),  for  as  its  eflervescingness 
("  on  the  top  of  the  glass  ")  is  indicative  of  the  frothiness 
of  4th  of  July  patriotism,  so  is  the  bitter  taste,  accom- 
panying its  darkish  How,  emblematic  of  the  sick-head- 
ache and  thick-headedness  of  July  the  5,  so-called — 
which  day  has  to  "  bear  the  ills  "  resulting  from  the  fol- 
lies of  the  day  previous. 

The  drink  (national)  used  to  be  strictly  American  in 
style,  i.  e.,  "  mightily  mixed  "  as  to  number,  quantity, 
and  quality  ;  but  now  one  (?)  drink  is  "  mostly  the  go," 
and  that  "  one  drink"  is  strictly  Deutsch — viz.,  mostly 
beer-ish.  (One  drink  lasts — or  continues,  which? — all 
day.) 

The  American  proper — mixed  breed,  I  mean — used  to 


Fourth  of  July.  33 

"  take  to "  whiskey-sling,  brandy-smash,  sangaree,  le- 
monade, old  rye  and  honey,  cider  and  sj)7'uce-beer  (the 
quality  and  quantity  and  numbers  of  the  liquid  being 
determined  solely  by  the  strength  of  his  stomach  and 
the  latitude  of  his  burying-ground) ;  but  nowadays  he 
mostly  "goes  for"  " spiked  beer." 

Beer  spiked  (or  whiskied)  is  the  "  half-way "  drink 
with  which  the  American  (so-called)  and  the  Dutchman 
"  enter  the  lists  "  for  a  friendly  contest  for  a  "  mixed 
nationality." 

("  I  have  sometimes  "  seemed  "  to  notice  that  I  was  "  in- 
dined''''  at  times  uto  think"  that  if  a  "Dutcher"  (full 
blood)  had  to  have  three  wishes  only — to  obtain  what 
happiness  he  ever  expected  to  achieve — that  the  first 
wish  would  be  "  for  beer,  and  girls  to  hand  the  beer  ;  " 
the  second  wish,  "  tobacco,  beer,  and  girls  ;"  and  thirdly, 
"  a  little  more  beer,  mein-herr."  /  (I  don't  know  whether 
I  am  a  Dutchman  or  not ;  but  I  seem  to  know  if  that 
kind  of  diet  (?)  satisfies  him  that  it's  none  of  my  business — 
"  not,  by  the  jugful".)  I  am  also  "  seriously  disposed  "  to 
imagine  that  the  Dutchman  could  no  more  have  a  "  4th 
July"  without  beer  than  a  Hottentot  could  sustain  a 
sickly  life  without  much  "  sun,"  or  a  hypocritical,  low-lie 
saint  support  a  whiny  existence  without  much  long 
prayers. 

I  am  prepared  to  state  the  Teutons  (as  a  nation)  to  be 
a  "  leetle  ahead  "  of  most  any  folks  I  ever  heard  of  (or 
dreamt  of)  in  the  matter  of  beer-drinking — but  the 
American,  "so-called,"  like  an  educated  cow's-tail,  is 
"  mighty  "  close  on  behind.  [If  you  ever  find  the  educated 
cow  as  don't  carry  "  sum"  educated  tail,  and  in  that  style 
("close  on  behind"),  why,  just  pen  me  a  line  (you  can 


34  Fourth  of  July. 

charge  a  "penny  a  line  "  "  if  you're  mind  to  ")  and  if  she  is 
proved  to  be  an  educated  animal  of  the  bovine  species, 
why  "  I'll  stand  treat  all  round,"  and  "  on  the  square," 
on — well,  on  "  I  wish  you  much  joy."     I  will,  I  golly.] 

I  went  to  a  "  4th  July  picnic  "  (once)  and  found  lots  of 
Dutch  well-filled,  empty  beer-kegs  well  (?)  spilled,  beer 
glasses  plentifully  patronized  (yet),  and  "  sum "  beer 
"  badly  demoralized  "  (you  bet). 

I  noticed  that  there  were  more  empty  beer-kegs  than 
beer  (no  matter  the  quantity  spilt  on  the  grounds  (?)  or 
remaining  in  the  keg)  and  that  a  couple  of  medium-sized 
Dutch-men  can  keep  4  boys  and  6  girls  waiting  on  them 
for  some  considerable  time  (if  not  longer — I  didn't  stay 
to  see)  passing  "  ein  lager,"  "zwei  lager;"  and  then  not 
be  tired  of  beer  worth  a — "nein"  (they  "yaw"  to  it  all 
the  time).  In  tact,  if  you  can  sit  down  and  look  on  at 
a  Dutch-man  drink  beer,  as  long  as  he  can  "  stand  up  to" 
and  call  for  it,  you  can  just  beat  your  Uncle  Jonas  on  the 
muscle  (and  the' boys  "  whar  I  cum  frum"  used  to  say  I 
was  pretty  good  on  that  kind  of  sinew),  "  that's  all  I've 
got  to  say."  I  didn't  see  a  Dutchman  "  empty"  much 
at  all — nor  1  never  want  to,  if  I  can  keep  my  "  I-sight." 

Dutch  4th  July  picnics  display  a  moderate  stock  of 
"  patriotism,"  so-called  (I've  heard),  only,  when  several 
breweries  have  sold  decidedly  "short,"  and — as  a  con- 
sequence, or  subsequeDce' — (/'d)  turned  the  Teutons 
"homeward  bound"  in  a  very  loosely-set  condition  on 
the  arms  of  their  more  sober  (if  not  less-loving)  spouses. 
I  am  not  fully  determined  to  strictly  re-ly  on  "  all  I 
hear,"  therefore  I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  don't  exactly  be- 
lieve (half  I  see). 

If  beer  does  make  (?)  a  German  "  loose,"  it  don't  often 


Fourth  of  July.  35 

(or  one  often)  make  drunk  or  "fighty,"  or  at  least,  if  it 
does  have  that  effect  (or  any),  the  habit  of  taking  his 
spouse  with  him,  to  any  "  show  "  he  may  attend,  prevents 
him  from  "showing  off"  his  belligerent  desires.''  "Long 
live"  some  Dutchmen  or  Germans — "may  they  ever 
wave  "  but  never  "  waver  "  (in  the  cause  of  morality  and 
the  downtrodden). 

I  seem  to  imagine,  if  /"were  to  go  home  (or  "  be  car- 
ried there  on  my  shield  " — a  pop(u)lar  plank)  in  that 
"  loose  "  predicament,  that  Sally  Jane  would  gently  comb 
my  unkempt  hair  with  a  three-legged  stool  (a  "  fool's 
seat")  and  prop  me  up  against  the  side  of  my  wood-shed 
— if  in  the  day-time,  to  dry  out,  if  it  were  night,  to  study 
(?)  and  admire  (?)  the  transcendent  beauties  of  the 
starry  firmament  above.  I  like  to  study  nature,  out 
not  exactly  in  that  way.  In  tact,  I'd  as  soon  show  my 
"patriotism"  by  distilling  perfumery  (by  sitting  in  the 
placid  warmth  of  a  noonday  July  sun  with  a  Limburger 
cheese  under  each  arm)  for  the  toilet  of  some  impecuni- 
ously-sweet-scented^y-hair-parted-in-the-middle-y,  youth- 
ful lover  of  his  country's  (self).  Either  would  be  mighty 
worrying,  tho',  I  should  guess.  I  warn  all  "perfumers" 
from  "  touching,"  yet-a-while,  any  perfume,  called 
"  Simpkins'  Aromatic,"  as  I  am  going  to  (not  "  take 
out  a  patent,"  but)  apply  for  a  "  license  to  manufacture 
and  sell."  If  I  succeed,  as  I  hope  (?),  I  intend  putting 
all  idle  school-boys  and  worn-out  book-keepers  (of  which 
classes  I  have  been  oxk)  and  lazy  negroes  (of  which  class, 
unless  I  turn  to  a  Darwinian  monkey,  I  never  expect  to 
be)  into  the  way  of  making  a  fortune  by  "  entering  the 
Ji<  Id "  for  the  "  manufacturing  of  perfumes."  I  con- 
sider, by  so  doing,  I  shall  be  making  good  use  of  my 


36  Fourth  of  July. 

large  (?)  surplus  (?)  capital,  and  that,  too,  in  a  much 
better  way  than  buying  ear-rings  and  silks  for  my  little 
daughters,  or  lending  money  to  "  sum"  neighbor  (?)  to 
purchase  broadcloth  coats,  glossy  beavers,  and  finger- 
rings  to  adorn  (?)  his  "  lovely  "  son(s)  with.  I  shall  be 
keeping  many  "  degenerate  "  persons  from  "  running  to 
waste',  "  at  least,  if  they  do,  it  will  be  "for  the  benefit  of 
the  public  at  large "  (which  "  many "  public  will  be 
"  thankful-fov"  I  suppose  (?) ),  both  by  providing  a  "  pleas- 
ant perfume"  and  "ridding  street  corners  of  idle  gazers  " 
and  brainless  orators  (?).  As  to  drink :  I  can  "  take  " 
beer ;  but  I  muchly  prefer  "  some  old  rye  and  honey  " — 
especially  as  prepared  by  my  wife  (Sally  Jane),  viz., 
more  old  rye  than  water  and  more  honey  than  either — 
even  if  it  is  less  patriotic.  It  might  be  well  enough  for 
"sum"  persons  to  bo, patriotic  about  once  a  year  (if  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  get  some  "  little  pride  knocked 
out  of  them  ") :  and  as  the  "4th"  of  July  is  already  pro- 
vided by  law  for  the  purpose,  why  I  guess  it's  just  as 
well  to  cellar-brate  that  day.  "  If  I  were  them,  tho',''  I'd 
try  and  not  make  it  last  all  the  year — it  would  make  the 
day  so  darned  long.  The  only  use  I  could  ever  see  it 
were  fit  for,  tho',  was  (as  old  mayor  H —  used  to  say) 
as  "  a  damper  on  some  very  cold  spring  weather." 

N.  B.  "  SumUn  "  says,  "  I  could  write  a  better  article 
than  that  on  '  4th  July '  m-e-r-self."  *  My  k-i-n-d 
friend  (?),  I  would  say,  if  you  do,  you  will  likely  have 
to  do  like  most  of  the  spread-eagle-y,  much-lauding  4th 
July  article  writers  (one  of  which  Jonas  ainH) — take 
your  little  stool  to  the  cool  side  of  a  "  forgotten  hearth," 

*  I  suspect  Jonas  wrote  this  for  "myself  "—as  it  is  sometimes 
drawlingly  spoken. — (Ed,) 


Fourth  of  July.  37 

and  in  the  dreary  "  winter-evening  "  conjure  up  in  your 
imagination  (for  the  benefit  of  your  poorly-clad  body) 
the  genial  beauties  of  a  national  festive  "  4th," — on  which 
4th,  if  you  were  to  stay  at  home,  you  wouldn't  suffer 
from  the  cold  if  you  wore  "  fig-leaves  for  trowsers." 

These  fancy  writers  expect  with  their  December  ar- 
ticles to  draw  cheers  (as  an  orator)  on  the  ensuing  4th, 
and  that  the  arms  of  men,  women,  and  children  will  be 
extended  to  "  welcome."  It  may  be  good  as  a  cooler, 
but  that's  all,  I'll  bet,  that  article  could  do. 

But  I'd  say  just  here  that  I  am  writing  for  my  own 
amusement,  as  well  as  others,  Mr.  "SumUn." 


"THE    MILK    OF    HUMAN"    KIND- 

NESS." 


Most  of  female  cattle  give  "pretty  fair"  milk;  but, 
"by  the  time  the  consumer  gets  it,  it  are  nigh  as  much 
water  as  milk,"  "sum"  say.  How  it  happens  that  a 
fifteen  minutes  drive,  on  a  good  road,  should  have 
such  an  effect  on  milk  of  "  keow,"  does  seem  "  rather 
strange,"  that's  a  fact.  But  "truth  is  always  queerer 
than  fiction,"  they  say — if  so,  that  accounts  for  the  milk 
in  the  cocoanut,  or  the  water  in  the  milk  either,  I  must 
suppose. 

I've  just  read  that  some  cow-men  (?)  are  going  to  hold 
a  convention  (which  is  a  great  thing,  a  funny  thing,  and 
all-important  (?)  thing  in  these  days)  about  this  adul- 
terated "keow"  milk.  If  they  do,  I  want  them  also 
to  "consider"  and  "  resolve  "  concerning  some  milk  of 
human  kindness,  which  is  not  only  badly-adulterated  as 
to  the  "stock  "  in  hand,  but  the  parent  stock  is  of  a  natu- 
rally "  very  poor  breed." 

Most  all  men  have  naturally  some  of  the  milk  of  human 
kindness  in  their  composition  ;  but  somehow,  between  the 
Scylla  of  inordinate  greed,  and  the  Chary bdis  of  bull- 
dog perversity,  it  is  either  "  darned  hard  to  draw  out," 
or,  if  obtained  and  put  on  the  market  for  sale,  a  sore- 
eyed,  mangy  kitten  would  sicken  at  the  approach  of  it — 
so  mixed  is  it  with  some  dirty  water.       I  never  allow 


"  The  Milk  of  Human  Kindness.1"  39 

milkmen  any  water,  while  they  travel  with  their  little 
cart,  unless  by  the  goblet-full,  and  I  then  generally  watch 
pretty  closely  where  it  goes — whether  their  own  mouth 
or  the  mouth  of  the  milk-can  "swallows  it  up."  All 
milkmen  don't  need  this  watching,  but  you  can't  al- 
ways correctly  tell  about  the  honesty  of  a  milk-seller, 
by  either  looking  at  his  own  lace  as  reflected  in  his  shiny 
tin  can,  or  by  examining  the  features  of  his  war-steed  in 
the  mellow  depths  of  an  adjacent  hog-wallow. 

I  have  often  wondered,  tho',  if  we  were  to  get  a  little 
more  pure  milk,  if  we  wouldn't  be  apt  to  grow  a  little 
more  milk  of  human  kindness.  I'd  as  soon  be  "axed" 
(?)  by  some  fighty  left-handed  giant — with  a  club  in 
between  his  forefingers  like — to  partake,  indiscriminately 
and  unhesitatingly,  six  times  per  day,  of  "  sum  "  soured, 
watered  milk,  as  to  be  anointed,  once  in  a  "great  while," 
with  "  sum  "  milk  of  human  kindness,  "  distilled  "  from 
"  sum  "  folks  "  wot  I've  sawed ; "  and  I'd  as  "  sooner  "  to 
try  milking  a  short-tailed,  quick-hoofed,  warm-tempered, 
"  brindle  heifer,"  in  fly  time,  as  to  attempt  to  draw  "  one 
drop "  of  the  "  milk  of  human  kindness "  from  the 
"  breast  "  of  "  sum  "  callous,  virtue-perspiring,  sycophant 
humbug,  yclept,  the  pie-us  man.*  The  "  milk  of  human 
kindness  "  is  the  bond  of  true  fellowship  that  attracts  a 
man  to  his  "  fellers,"  and  is  to  man's  moral  nature  what 
cow's  milk  is  to  a  weaning  infant.  Nature  is  much 
warped  for  the  want  of  either,  if  good  :  watered  milk  of 
either  kind  is  of  no  account,  except  to  raise  hypocrites 
on,  or  throw  into  "sum"  unused  manure  pile.  The 
"  gin-e-wine  "  milk  is  a  better  regenerator  than  old  rye 

*  Jonas  may  have  meant  pious  man,,for  most  of  the  pious  men  he 
met  were  of  the  give-ws-the-piekind,  he  told  me.— (Ed.) 


40  "  The  Milk  of  Human  Kindness? 

and  honey  even,  and  much  superior  to  schnapps  and  stale 
ale. 

It  makes  the  eye  to  shine,  the  face  to  beam,  the  phy- 
sical body  stronger  and  more  elastic.  It  gives,  to  the 
young  man  of  fifty,  the  youthful  appearance  of  a  middle- 
aged  person  of  twenty — with  whiskers  grown.  It  en- 
dows the  stranger  with  courage  to  address,  the  infant 
with  the  privilege  of  prattle,  the  mendicant  with  the 
right  of  begging,  and  the  outcast  with  authority  to  plead. 

It  is  an  extract  from  the  best,  purest  feelings  of  man's 
nature.  It  flows  like  a  brook  that  "takes  its  start"  from 
its  spring  in  the  mountain,  gracefully  and  humorously, 
to  the  general  irrigating  of  the  dry  soil  of  worldly  inter- 
course. Rising  up  from  the  depths  of  the  heart,  it  meanders 
gleefully  down  even  unto  a  mans  finger-ends  and  big-toe- 
nails  ;  and  that  man  could  no  more  kick  at  an  old  hat 
(that  he  knew  there  were  no  bricks  in),  or  refrain  from 
giving  to  a  blind  beggar  (even  if  he  were  a  supposed  im- 
postor), than  a  hypocrite  could  "  mount  to  the  skies"  on 
strength  of  good  deeds,  or  a  good  man  tell  long-drawn 
lies  with  deep-drawn  sighs  for  charity's  sake. 

It  is  a  surer  aid  to  health  and  long  life  than  would 
have  been  Ponce-de-Leon's  worshipped  fountain  of  per- 
ennial youth ;  as  the  former  invigarates  both  the  mental 
and  physical  essence  of  man,  and  it  is  tolerably  good  as 
a  skin  purifier.  It  causes  old  age  to  condone  the  errors 
of  youth,  and  compels  youth  to  smile  reverently  at  the 
eccentricities  of  old  age.  It  conceals,  as  with  a  garment, 
blindness,  deafness,  lameness,  and  other  innumerable  ills 
that  flesh  is  heir  to ;  and  covers  up  with  the  long  cloak 
of  charity  a  "multitude  pf  sins." 

The  only  sin  it  will  not  cover,  "  and  hide  its  shame 


"  The  Milk  of  Human  Kindness."  41 

from  every  eye,"  is,  the  longest-tailed  sin  of  all,  hy- 
pocrisy. Heaven  is  the  only  place — if  there — where 
charity  will  be  enabled  to  procure  a  cover  for  that 
tiling's  tail. 


"  KNTGHT "    EKR'D    AND    TRY'D 
AGAIN. 


"  There  was  an  old  man,"  in  the  county  in  which  I* 
used  to  live,  named  Knight  (he  wasn't  a  "  dark  "  man 
neither — stumbling  in  the  day-time  as  well  as  the  night) 
who  was  always  blundering,  like  the  most  of  the  rest  of 
us ;  but,  with  indomitable  energy,  he — to  use  his  own 
language — "jumped  up  and  tried  again."  With  all  his 
falls  and  errors,  he  managed  to  worry  thro'  a  long  and 
virtuous  life,  and  die  truly  respected.  May  his  ashes 
rest  in  peace  (not  pieces),  and  where  he  has  gone, 
may  "  mashed  potatoes "  grow  as  luxuriantly  as  those 
"  over  which,"  in  life-time,  he  "loved  to  fondly  linger." 
His  ancestors,  in  olden  time,  were  very  worthy  people, 
spreading  their  seed  in  every  clime,  and  protecting  weak 
females  and  lonely  youth.  After  a  while  they  formed  a 
band ;  and  they  were  called  Knights  Errant,  and  their 
deeds  Knight  Errantry. 

From  what  my  old  friend  told  me,  I  have  supposed 
that  this  name  of  Knight  Errantry  was  derived  from 
the  fact  that  "  these  Knights  often  erred  in  the  course 
pursued  to  defend  and  protect,  but,  erring,  tried  again." 
I  guess  my  friend  was  right;  anyhow,  as  he  adopted 
the  "try  again"  motto  for  his  own  guide  in  life — 
and  as  much  because  he  believed  it  were  his  ancestors', 


"  Knight  "  Errd  and  Tryd  Again.  43 

as  from  any  other  reason — I  ain't  got  no  right  to 
doubt  it  (?). 

We,  methinks,  need  some  Knight  Errantry  now- 
adays, to  protect  the  weak  and  defeat  the  strong ;  not 
armed  with,  shield  and  buckler  of  metal,  nor  armor  of 
steel  (not  steal — nor  stolen,  as  the  apparel  of  "  sum  " 
folks  that  now  live),  but  with  courageous  heart,  willing 
hand,  and  active  brain,  to  argue  for  truth  and  right,  and 
strike  for  the  lowly  and  oppressed. 

A  whole  band  of  the  Knight's-Errant  of  now  could  be 
"run"  thro'  the  "eye  of  a  needle  "  much  easier  than  a 
"  little  toy  camel  "  could — which,  according  to  "  sum" 
prophet  (?)  of  old,  must  have  been  a  pretty  tough  job. 
B}T-the-bye,  did  you  never  notice  that  the  prophets  of  to- 
day were  looking  pretty  constantly  after  "  sum  "  other 
"profits  f  and  more  so  than  to  the  advice  of  their  ancient 
"  masters."  The  prophets  of  to-day  will  prophesy  about 
anything,  from  the  coming  of  a  comet  (not  Comte)  or  a 
Jesus — to  either  destroy  or  free  a  world  (of  sinners) — to 
foretelling  the  untimely  death  of  a  tobacco-smoker,  from 
a  frequent  application  of  clay-pipe  to  his  mouth.  They 
get  awfully  fooled  as  to  the  fulfillment  of  either  their 
wishes  or  their  prophesy — sometimes. 

Anyhow !  it  has  happened  so,  as  to  that  concerning 
me  and  the  comet,  and  I  am  very  much  disinclined  to 
believe  but  what  it  will  "turn  out  so," as  to  the  foretell- 
ings  concerning  others. 

If  Jesus  should  "  come  again,"  he  will  likely  find 
these  prophets  as  the  "head  ones"  of  an  army  of  stoners, 
unless  he  bring  some  army  with  him,  for  then  they 
would  figure  mostly  at  the  tail-end.  When  I  see  these 
fellers  meandering  around  I  know  they  mean  to  prophesy 


44  "  Knight  "  Errd  and  Tryd  Again. 

of  the  loss  of  pocketbooks  to  some  folks  (and  it  are  gene- 
rally the  only  one  of  their  "git  up"  that's  ever  fulfilled), 
and  hence,  as  I  never  liked  to  have  even  the  loss  of  a 
yocketbook  foretold  (?),  you  see,  I  generally  "  strike  out 
loosely"  for — well !  elsewhere. 

The  noble  (!)  night  errants  of  to-day,  say  long  prayers 
oefore  some  lonely  widows  and  orphans,  and  afterwards, 
smilingly  and  coaxingly,  attempt  to  "  hoax  "  them  out  of 
the  few  stray  dimes  a  "deceased  darling"  has  bequeathed 
them.  I  wish  (?)  I  were  a  fightist,  but  I  ain't.  The  Errant- 
Knights  of  this  vicinity  (where  you  may  find  out)  don't 
seem  to  imagine  they  err  at  all ;  and  hence,  of  course,  see 
no  necessity  of  trying  again  ;  and  I  suppose  that  accounts 
for  the  small  amount  of  K night-Errantry  that  is  lying 
around  loose  in  the  gullies  and  on  the  hills,  in  the  kitchen 
and  on  the  parlor  carpet  of  the  people  in  "  these  parts." 

I,  at  least,  have,  as  yet,  been  unable  to  "  sight  "  much, 
as  I  have  been  "  lingering  along  "  these  last  few  years. 


KEMINISCENCES. 


"  Sum  TTn"  says,  that  the  above  word  signifies  "  some- 
thing that  brings  to  our  mind  things  (?)  that  have  here- 
tofore transpired."  Maybe  "  sum  un  "  knows.  If  so,  it 
accounts  to  my  mind  for  the  large  amount  of  reminis- 
cences now  on  hand  in  the  family  of  your  Uncle  Jonas. 

Most  of  the  families  of  my  immediate  vicinity  have 
enough  of  the  vegetable  {?)  on  hand  to  go  all  around  and 
some  to  spare.  I've  heard  of  some  families  so  large  that 
measles  and  whooping  cough  wah't  sufficient  for  the  de- 
mand (?),  but  not  so  as  to  reminiscences,  as  far  as  my  most 
inquisitive  friends  have  been  able  to  inform  me. 

[For  several  years  I  have  seemed  to  observe  a  growing 
demand  for  "  whoops  " — no  !  hoops,  I  mean.] 

When  the  market  gets  scarce  of  stock,  as  to  reminis- 
cences, lam  going  to  sell  mighty  "  short " — you  may  bet ; 
leaving  but  "  monstrous  "  little  for  seed. 

A  broken  china  dog  and  a  "  ditto  "  sheep  bring  to  my 
mind  a  sad  remembrance  of  youthful  spankings  received 
from  the  hand  of  an  affectionate  maternal  parent. 

As  to  my  infantile  commencement,  I  have  nothing 
whereof  to  speak,  nor  do  I  at  this  time  exactly  know 
what  my  lamented  fore-father  had  for  his  breakfast  at 
that  epoch  of  the  world's  history — my  natal  day.  (I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  he  broke  his  fast  by  discussing, 
mildly,    (i  sum  "  briled    ham,  "  sum  "    scrambled    eggs, 


46  Reminiscences. 

"  sum  "  bees-quit,*  and  a  enp  or  so  of  "  Yuppon"  tea, 
with  a  settler  in  the  shape  of  old  rye  and  honey — but  I 
"dinna  ken.") 

I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  "  sum  "  very  wise 
people,  in  the  course  of  my  eventful  life,  that  would 
assert  that  they  could  tell,  to  an  egg,  how  many  eggs 
were  poached,  the  morning  of  their  birth,  for  their 
family  repast ;  but  they  were,  I've  particularly  noticed, 
"  unkimmon  "  smart  (?)  folks. 

The  Simpkinses  never  could  claim,  naturally,  any  ex- 
cess of  '•'smart,"  altho'  circumstances  have  surrounded 
them,  after  birth,  that  disclosed  unto  them  the  mysteries 
of  "  sum"  smart,  of  the  birch-rod  kind,  at  least.  Our 
parents  taught  that  very  uncomfortable,  but  very  use- 
ful lesson,  of  "  Spare  the  rod  and  you  spoil  the  child  ;  " 
and  as  much  by  practice  as  preaching,  did  they  exem- 
plify it.  Even  down  to  the  present  day  we  believe  in 
and  practice  "  object "  teaching,  and  think  a  good  deal 
of  extract  of  birch,  as  a  family  medicine,  in  severe  cases 
of  hard-headedness.  Our  not  using  poached  eggs  in  our 
family  may  have  been  the  cause  of  our  not  being  born 
smart.  I  don't  know  why  else.  Maybe  some  "  philolo- 
gist "  can  tell,  if  I  can't. 

Of  my  "  maturer  "  years  I  have  succeeded  in  retain- 
ing "sum"  very  lively  reminiscenses,  "in  the  way  of" 
well-thumbed  school-books,  and  a  verse  or  so  of  hiss- 
candy  poetry,  which  I  never  quote — especially  to  Sally 
Jane.     I  am  "  too  old  a  coon  "  for  that. 

I  was  blessed  with  but  very  few  sweethearts — not  half 
so  many  as  the  killing  youth  of  to-day — partly,  no  doubt, 

*Jonas  always  spelt  his  words  wrong  if  there  was  any  opportunity 
given  of  doing  so.     See  above  (for  biscuit). — {Ed.) 


Reminiscences.  47 

on  account  of  the  much  grin  on  my  classic  (?)  phiz,  but 
also  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  we  couldn't  "  feel  so 
jolly  "  without  "  a  Dolly  Yarden  on,"  etc. 

Did  you  never  observe  that  the  fashionable  youth 
never  grins  (?)but  that  he  benignly,  condescendingly,  lets 
a  little  half-sick,  half-sad,  intellectual  (?)  smile  tremble 
on  his  upper-lip  for  a  moment,  to  be  dropped  into  the 
fathomless  depths  of  oblivion's  darkness  the  next  inter- 
val of  clock-ticking.  Oh !  it's  very  sublime,  and  very 
"pecooiier,"  that  ambiguous  mellowness  that  diffuses 
itself  o'er  his  tender  visage.     It  is  !  very  !  !  ! 

Also  for  this  period  I  possess  (for  life)  a  lasting  re- 
miniscence in  the  matter  of  a  broken  nose — broken  by 
too  prompt  attention  to  another's  business,  and  running 
against  a  tree  in  the  interest  thereof.  This  circumstance 
ought  to  have  taught  me  two  lessons :  lstly,  That, 
generally  speaking,  a  sycamore-tree  are  harder  timber 
than  some  boys*  heads.  2ndly,  That  minding  some- 
body's else's  business,  on  small  pay,  was  much  injurious 
to  one's  complexion. 

I  can't  say,  tho',  that  it  has.  Experience  may  be  a 
wise  teacher,  but  she  don't  teach  us  thorough,  always. 
There  can  always  be  some  consolation  "  picked  up " 
from  most  events  of  life,  if  hunted  for  industriously  and 
consistently ;  and  so,  when,  as  I  sat  me  down  to  medi- 
tate, I  reconsidered  how  my  face  might  have  been  peeled, 
and  mouth  mashed  (had  it  not  have  been  for  my  nose 
warding  off  the  blow,  like  a  Titan's  shield,)  I  shed 
silent  tears  of  joy.  No  more,  after  that,  did  1  hanker 
after  less  nose;  for  I  deemed  them  of  use,  if  but  to 
"fend  off"  "  sum  "  blows.  A  nose,  like  a  trumpet,  is  a 
darned  good  thing  to  blow  upon  (or  with). 


48  Reminiscences. 

A  ten-quire  book  could  be  "  written  up  "  on  the  sub- 
jects, noses  and  knowses,  blows-es  and  blowses — if  a 
feller  were  literary  inclined — methinks.  Of  still  later 
years  I  have  a  reminder — from  four  years'  battling  for 
others'  wrongs — in  a  skinned  shin,  whereon  I  used  at 
one  time  much  "  ointment ; "  and  of  an  unsuccessful 
mercantile  career,  in  the  large  amount  of  "  so-called " 
indebtedness,  and  the  small  quota  of  remaining  credit ; 
and  of  a  successful  courtship,  in  the  inspiring  presence  of 
my  much  esteemed  Sally  Jane  (whisper  not  to  the 
hreezes,  of  those  candy  kisses),  and  "sum"  very  interest- 
ing, but  hungry  children. 

The  reminiscenses  of  my  latter  life  "  throng  before 
me  "  mostly  in  the  shape  of  dilapidated  linen,  old  coats 
without  tails,  old  boots  without  legs,  socks  "  not  much 
else "  but  legs,  pants  " without  seats"  a  few  chapters  of 
the  Psalms  by  the  David  what  killed  "  Golier  mit  a 
stun,"  and  a  "  phew  "  unpaid  doctors',  grocers',  and  various 
other  very  small  (?)  bills. 

These  last  articles  will,  I  suppose,  like  unto  the  bill 
of  a  savage  musquito  in  summer  weather  (whew  !  Con- 
found that  musquito  !  Darn  him  ;  I'll  write  him  up — I 
wish  I  could,  thro'  a  "  spout,"  "  send  him  up  "),  con- 
tinue to  be  gentle  reminders  for  some  time  to  come, 
unless  they  agree  to  take  their  pay  in  "  Simpkins'  talk," 
"  Siinpkins'  music,"  or  u  Simpkins'  aromatic,"  or  unless 
the  comet  strikes  us — when  musquitoes  and  grocers' 
bills  will  "go  up"  together.  Always  consolation  (!), 
you  know,  in  everything. 

May  the  reminders  of  the  present  be  more  pleasant 
to  the  reader,  in  his  time  to  come,  than  your  Uncle 
Jonas  seems  to  imagine  his  own,  is  likely  to  prove. 


Reminiscences.  49 

This  is  the  earnest  wish  of  Tours  Serenely,  his  wife 
(Sally  Jane),  and  his  much  injured  (?)  progeny. 

Altho'  the  contact  with  the  world  "has  tended  to 
eradicate  all  the  whilom  good-natured  grin,  that  once 
meandered  along  my  boyish  countenance,  yet  I'll  be 
"  horn-swaggled  " — if  I  canH  trade  off  my  reminiscences 
to  anybody,  cheap,  for  potatoes,  snaps,  or  sich — if  I  am 
going  around  begging  anybody  to  "  take  them  off  of  my 
hands  "  for  a  song — I  don't  like  song  that  well.  No  ! 
Sir!!     "Not  for  Jonas." 

P.S. — "Sum  1111"  (else)  says,  "I  understand  that  the 
heading  of  your  say,  so-called,  means  recollections" 

Well !  Suppose  it  does.  I  ain't  a  Webster,  nor  a 
contender,  nor  pretender.     "  Let  it  slide."     I  golly. 

Besides,  if  it  comes  to  that,  I  have  several  of  "  them  " 
re-collections  on  hand  also  that  I'd  barter  off"  for  "  sum" 
patent  plows  to  go  farming  on  shares  with  (but  I'd  pre- 
fer my  share  to  be  sitting  in  the  umbrageous  shade  of 
a  vine-clad  porch,  fully  satisfied  if  my  partner  can  raise 
the  "  taters  "),  or  patent  burning  fluid  (to  blow  up  some 
unserphist-ic-ated  fool  with),  and  "  no  questions  axed." 

I've  got  nothing  else  that  I'd  be  willing  to  trade  for 
patents,  unless  it  be  some  worn-out  toothpicks. 

Recollections  are  generally  mixed,  as  to  quality  and 
quantity — like  some  low  bilious  fever,  so-called — and 
mine  are  so  "  offal  "*  mixed  that  they  ain't  sweet,  as  to 
smell,  worth  a  scent. 

*  Jonas  sometimes  spelt  awful,  "  Offal ; "  whether  he  meant  it 
there,  I  don't  know. — (Ed.) 


"BREVITY,  THE    SOUL    OF    WIT." 


If  I  were  going  to  recommend,  to  some  folks,  some 
thing  of  importance,  I  imagine  I  should  be  very  brief 
about  it.  I  should  be  brief,  as  to  my  courtship,  if  I 
were  a  young  man  ;  I  should  be  brief,  if  I  were  a  young 
woman,  in  my  reply  to  said  proposal ;  I  should  be  brief, 
if  I  were  a  preacher,  as  to  my  sermons  or  my  prayers ; 
I  should  be  brief,  if  I  were  a  lawyer,  in  writing  out  my 
case  ;  I  should  be  brief,  if  I  were  a  doctor,  in  bringing 
my  patient  to  his,  or  her,  senses — even  if  I  had  to  dun 
them  on  the  last  year's  bill  before  I  could  achieve  it ;  I 
should  be  brief,  if  I  were  a  worm-mixture  man,  as  to 
my  stay  in  Arkansas ;  I  should  be  brief,  if  I  were  an 
authoress,  in  my  epistles  for  the  press  and  the  public ;  I 
should  be  brief  (but  to  the  point),  if  I  were  a  parent 
(and  I  guess  I  am),  as  to  the  free  !  distribution  of  birch- 
rod  serenades  to  sum  hungry  (for  a  whipping)  juvenile 
offenders.  But  when  I  say,  "  I'd  be  brief,"  I  don't  say 
"  I'd  be  witty."  Wit  may  be,  possibly,  expressed  in  few 
words;  but  a  few  words  may  not,  tho',  be  wittily 
expressed.  No,  sir!  Brevity  aint  wit  (from  a  saw- 
buck  standpoint).  Is  a  h'ce-dog's  snap,  wit  ?  Is  a  short- 
ened dog's  tail,  or  a  stub  nose,  wit  ?  Is  being  short  of 
funds,  wit  ?  I  don't  believe  it  are,  nor  my  grocer  either. 
As  to  whether  wit  has  a  soul  or  not,  I'd  leave  to  the 
Divine — others   may   turn   it  over   to   the  "  so-called " 


Brevity  the  Soul  of  Wit.  5 1 

divines,  to  turn  over  again  (and  again).  "Wit,  correctly 
(and  sqfe-]j)  ^-pressed  is  done  up  in  small  parcels, — but 
it  is  very  slow  work  to  get  them  well  wrapped.  A  fool's 
thoughts,  like  light-weight  baggage  on  a  freight  train,  can 
be  shoved  forward  fast — but  they  often  get  smashed  up 
before  reaching  destination.  A  wise  man's  words  are 
slow  of  flow  ;  but  a  fool's  speech  is,  like  a  badly-worn 
waste-pipe,  always  letting  out  a  flood  in  a  wrong 
direction.  A  wise  man  has  to  take  time  to  utter  a  few 
words ;  but  a  fool  can  rattle  off,  in  a  minute,  a  sufficiency 
of  gab  to  last  a  tolerably  easily  satisfied  audience  for  a 
long  while.  Nature  always  compensates  even  to  the 
fool ;  for,  if  his  utterances  amount  to  but  little,  the  time 
consumed  in  their  delivery  ain't  worth  mentioning. 

A  wise  man,  altho'  valuing  time  muchly,  yet  accounts 
real  thought  as  of  more  worth  than  moments  fled. 
Time  is  only  valuable  as  to  the  amount  of  good  that  it 
enables  him  to  accomplish.  A  fool  cares  for  it  only  as 
the  steam-car  of  pleasure — never  really  thinking  of  it 
at  all,  except  as  pas-time  for  himself. 

A  wise  man  may  sometimes  appear  foolish,  but  you  can't 
answer  him  as  you  would  a  fool — "  according  to  his  folly." 

It  ain't  best  to  be  brief,  tho' — even  if  brevity  is  wit, 
which  I  hain't  acknowledged — in  eating  hot  porridge 
with  a  broken-tined  fork  ;  in  composing  a  camp-meeting 
song ;  in  reading  the  history  of  the  world,  or  studying 
nature  ;  in  "  discoursing  sweet  music  "  with  a  violincello 
— when  every  body  wishes  to  dance ;  in  discharging  a 
good  "  hand  "  or  dallying  with  a  "  poor  one  "  (it's  best  to 
be  brief,  tho',  in  "  clearing  your  skirts "  of  a  mean 
employer,) ;  or  in  getting  in  a  quarrel  (altho'  it  would 
seem  best  to  be  very  brief  in  "getting  out  of  it  "). 


52  Brevity  the  Soul  of  Wit. 

To  he  brief,  I  might  say  more,  for  this,  like  most 
other  articles  in  this  little  book,  is  intended  to  be 
"  short,"  if  it  ain't  "  sweet."  "  Sum  "  folks  are  said  to 
live  on  their  so-called  wit,  but,  as  for  our  family,  we 
prefer  cold  turnips,  as  a  constant  diet,  to  the  kind  of  wit 
these  people  must  "  mumble  over." 


horace  greeley's  "old  white 
hat:1 


Why  Horace  wore  that  " white  hat"  I  don't  pretend 
to  know — never  having  interviewed  him  on  that  sub- 
ject. I  have  always,  tho',  suspected  that  he  was  utterly 
disgusted  with  the  sycophancy,  vanity,  and  false  pride 
contained  in  the  heads  that  most  of  the  shining  beavers 
covered.  Being  possessed  of  this  disgust  for  the  men,  I 
have  imagined  that  he  instituted  (for  himself,  like)  the 
useful  white  hat — as  a  symbol  of  his  desire  to  shun  their 
faults  and  to  disdain  their  beavers.  It  is  said,  also,  that 
"  that  old  white  hat  "  got  rusty  and  weather-beaten 
from  contending  with  the  weathers,  as  they  vary  during 
the  changing  seasons.  If  that  was  allowed  also  from  a 
desire  to  show  that  as  long  as  a  hat  covered  the  (or  a) 
head  it  answered  the  purpose  intended  ;  and  that,  instead 
of  going  in  debt  for  a  new  one,  it  were  better  to  wear 
the  old,  why,  then  I  am  a  Greeley  man,  even  if  I  don't 
vote  (or  never  have  voted)  for  him.  [For  I  ain't  much 
on  the  vote,  yet-a-while,  altho'  I  don't  say  that  I 
"  mayn't  "  some  day  be.]  There's  lots  of  folks, — in  fact, 
most  everybody  and  his  wife,  wife's  cousins  and  step- 
sisters,—that  are  willing  and  even  anxious  to  accept 
things  "as  they  seem,"  without  examining  into  the 
causes ;  but,  methinks,  if  "  too  inconvenient  at  the  time  " 
(as    they   say),   great   inconvenience   might    be    saved, 


54  Horace  Greeley  s  "  <9/<^  White  HatT 

"arter"  awhile,  by  a  little  dose  being  taken  "at once." 
A  "stitch  in  time  saves  nine,"  might  apply  to  more 
things  than  darning  socks,  or  patching  torn  pants.  If 
the  employer  were  to  bestow  on  employees  some  of  the 
kindness  that  he  seems  (?)  willing  to  lavish  on  them 
after  their  departure,  there  might  be  less  disturbances 
between  workmen  and  "  bosses  " — fewer  "  strikes  "  for 
right  and  justice.  If  people  would  pay  a  little  less 
attention  to  "  sum  "  apparel  and  a  little  more  to  "  sum  " 
kind  actions  to  others — encouraging  brains  and  muscle 
— this  hemisphere,  methinks,  might  become  partly  hap- 
py "  arter  awhile."  Until  then,  never !  You  "  watch  if 
it  does."  If  Greeley  wears  "white  hat"  because  he 
wants  to,  and  don't  care  "  what  others  think,"  I  say, 
hurrah  for  he,  or  his  "  heirs  and  assigns  "  forever. 


"TO  EEE  IS  HUMAN,  TO   FOEGIYE 
DIVINE." 


This  don't  require  any  proof — "  purvided  "  your  di- 
vines (?)  will  tell  us  what  humanity  and  divinity  con- 
sist of. 

Without  that,  (?)  a  man,  with  "half-an-eye  "  open  for 
observation,  may-haps  might  be  able  to  discern  a  portion 
of  truth  (?)  in  the  assertion.  Yes !  "  ad  infinitum  "  "  ad 
finem  "  ("  infinitely,"  "  to  the  end.") 

It's  the  surest  way  I  have  yet  "  pursued "  to  try  to 
discover  about  this  divine  business,  and  is  the  only 
way  I  could  ever  "  account  for "  the  small  amount  of 
real  divinity  and  the  large  quantity  of  "  bogus  "  human- 
ity that's  "  afloat "  on  the  current  (not  currant — for  this 
"  life-that-now-is,"  is  no  soft-shell  berry,  but  a  nut,  and  a 
very  "  hard  nut  to  crack"  at  that. — I've  found  it)  of  ex- 
istence. 

At  least  those,  with  whom  I've  had  the  exquisite  plea- 
sure (?)  of  becoming  thoroughly  and  intimately  acquainted 
with,  seemed  to  be  afflicted  with  much-err  and  but 
little-forgive  (without  their  own  knowledge,  tho',  I  am 
told).  If  forgiving  error  is  a  divine  attribute,  the  con- 
doning of  the  errors  of  others  committed  against  others 
(than  ourselves)  must  be  second  cousin  to  some  divine- 
ness,  and  the  confession  of  our  own  errors  somewhat  closely 
akin  likewise  thereto.    I  have  sometimes  seemed  tempted 


56  "  To  Err  is  Human,  to  Forgive  Divine." 

to  imagine  that  there  are  "  sum  "  persons,  that  I  have 
thought  that  I  possessed  some  slight  knowledge  of,  who 
did'nt  seem  to  remember  how  they  could  lie  (and  I 
might  add,  "might,  would,  or  should  "  lie),  when  they  av- 
erred that  they  never  "  'ave  erred."  A  friend  of  mine 
supposes  that,  as  they  have  told  themselves  so  often,  (in 
their  closet),  that  they  didn't  err,  that  they  expect  man- 
kind, and  the  Good  Lord,  to  "  take  their  word  for  it "  on 
all  other  occasions.  If  these  kind  of  non-divisible,  not- 
advisable  species  of  dried-up  human  perfection  (?)  ever 
do  err  (and  I  have  to  reckon  they  do),  it  is  rarely  ever  on 
the  side  of  Justice  (blind  woman  at  that)  and  never  on 
the  Mercy  side,  at  all,  but  chiefly  on  their  own  side,  or 
on  that  side  of  Justice  where  the  biggest,  fullest  pocket 
hangs.  Consequently,  their  errors  are  no  errors,  but 
simply  their  dues  (they  say).  Such  dues  as  these  ain't 
such  as  Heaven  sheds  on  ajntted  world,  but  such  as  are 
significantly  styled  "  Church  dues." 

[When  a  man,  of  "  hefty -ness  "  treads  on  my  corns,  I 
may  say  nothing,  but  1  feel  it  then.  I  hope  this  don't 
constitute  an  error,  or  airer  either.]  Now,  somehow 
or  other,  your  Uncle  Jonas  has  always  (or  most  always) 
felt  that  he  "  wanted  to  go  home  "  whenever  his  path  in 
life  crossed  that  of  these  sancti-mon-i-ous,  hypocritical 
blowhards ;  and,  sorter  like  a  little  boy  that's  just  fell  over 
a  loorm  fence,  feels  for  his  empty  pocketbook  and  stray 
buttons.  I  don't  claim  much  divinity  worth  speaking 
of,  for  I  am  not  yet  "wrought  up  "to  exactly  that 
"frame  of  mind"  that  forgives  those  who  rob  the  poor 
of  the  bread  (needed  for  the  children's  mouths.)  to  add  to 
the  stock  of  "  crumbs  "  to  be  thrown  to  their  pet  curs, 
or  to  raise  a  little  higher  the  pillar  of  "  scraps  "  to  be 


"  To  Err  is  Human,  to  Forgive  Divine"         57 

sent  to  "  sum  "  so-called  Charity  Hospital,  in  which  they 
propose  to  advertise  their  character  for  so-called  benefi- 
cence. I  seem  sometimes  to  desire  to  know :  That  if, 
"  on  a  semi-occasional  like,"  a  little  more  humanity-ness 
were  "  diffused  "  loosely  among  mankind  at  large  it 
wouldn't  be  the  seed  for  a  growth  of  some  large-sized 
divinity-ness.  If  not !  why  not?  Sometimes  I  am  in- 
clined to  decide,  in." my  own  mind,  that  I  blundered  into 
this  world,  am  blundering  through  it  (and  have  been 
"forever" — so  long?)  and  that  it  will  be  just  my  "fool 
luck  "  to  stumble,  "  unaxed  "  for,  in  that  world  which, 
we  are  advised  to  imagine,  "  lays  beyond  " — where  the 
preachers  don't  know,  nor  gingernuts  ain't  supposed  to 
grow.     Sad,  ain't  it  ?     But  such  is  life. 

If  Jonas  Simpkins  has  been  of  any  service  in  this 
world  it  has  undoubtedly  partly  been  in  the  helping  to 
keep  up  the  assortment  of  "  fools,"  that  seem  necessary 
(if  for  nothing  else)  to  afford  a  little  target  for  other  sim- 
pletons to  fire  their  stale  wit  at.  There  is  no  sadness  at 
my  heart's  core  for  this,  for  they  shoot  very  wide  of  the 
mark — so  much  so  that  it  are  deemed  happiness  by  me  to 
be  the  target,  for  their  shots  either  hit  their  friends  on 
the  "  passage  out  "  or  are  likely  to  rebound  from  the  side 
of  a  dead  tree  to  their  own  side.  "  Even  to  this  day  " 
I  have  to  give  thanks,  not  so  muchly  on  account  of  hav- 
ing erred,  as,  from  knowing  them,  I  am  willing  to  ac- 
knowledge those  errors  I  have  committed. 

This  ain't  saving,  tho',  that  I  expect  to  count  them 
over  for  you.  If  private  confession  are  good  for  the 
soul,  I  don't  suppose  that  public  confession  is  going  to 
bring  in  any  considerable  amount  of  happiness,  or,  the 
equivalent,  a  large  crop  of  "  mashed  potatoes."     Up  to 


58         "To  Err  is  Human,  to  Forgive  Divine" 

my  latest  meditation  neither  "  rhyme  nor  reason  "  have 
seemed  to  warm  me  into  "  too  great  an  enthusiasm  " 
about  the  likelihood  of  ever  putting  on  a  "  divinely 
shaped  form."  It  undoubtedly  (?)  is  because  the  Good 
Lord  has  never  seen  fit  to  "  open  my  mind  to  a  view  of 
sjnrit-im\  things." 

I  had,  "  once  on  a  time,"  an  idea  that  I  was  conversant 
with  the  spirit's  touch.  But  on  consideration,  "  since" 
I  guess  I  wan't  (?).  Most  of  the  long-metre  saints  partake 
vert/  much  of  the  character  I  saw  described  in  a  paper 
some  time  back. 

This  "genus  homo"  had  the  faculty  of  attending 
"  sum  "  church  on  Sunday,  and  breaking  some  of  the  Ten 
Commandments,  so-called  divine,  on  the  weeky  days. 

His  "much-loved  pastor"  remonstrated  with  this  err- 
ing "  saint "  (?)  seemingly,  tho',  to  no  effect.  One  Sunday, 
tho',  his  pastor,  after  "  axing  of  his  health,"  asked  con- 
cerning his  chicks,  his  neighbors  chicks  and  his  neigh- 
bors turkeys  also — as  much  as  to  say  "  hast  theu  thy 
neighbor's  goods  ?  "  The  pious  sinner  denied  the  "  mild 
impeachment,"  as  to  the  above  articles,  and  (to  see  how 
easily  and  beautifully  we  glide  into  error  here)  his  lender 
thanked  God  "  that  my  brother  liveth  "  and  "  went  his 
way  rejoicing:"  but  the  old  "  stone-breaker  "  couldn't 
"stand  the  pressure  "  long,  after  his  "  superior  "  had  left 
him,  but  rather  sighed  and  whispered  to  an  interested 
bystander;  "Ef  he'd  a  sed  ducks,  he'd  a  had  me."  We 
only  have  to  ask,  figuratively  speaking,  of  most  men 
about  "  clacks  "  and  "  we'll  had  'em." 

I  think  Frank  Leslie  is  entitled  to  the  fathering  of  the 
story,  tho'  worded  differently,  that  is  related  of  above. 
If  so,  I   thank  him  (or  I  don't  know  if  he  shouldn't 


"  To  Err  is  Human,  to  Forgive  Divine."         59 

thank  me);  I  think  I'll  ask  Frank  about  it,  when  I  see 
him. 

P.  S.  Just  now  I  found  a  man  that  is  willing  to  ac- 
knowledge that  he  once  or  twice  committed  "sum  "  error 
— and  that  acknowledgment  without  fear  of  Tartarus  or 
hope  of  a  mansion  in  the  skies  either;  for  I  had  no  au- 
thority to  provide  him  a  passport  to  either  point  (if  I 
knew  which  or  where  he'd  be  best  cared  for  at).  Per- 
haps, like  Crockett's  Dutchman,  "  he'd  taken  a  little  too 
much  toll ;  "  altho'  I  never  "  axed  "  him,  for  I  had  no 
toll,  worth  mentioning,  to  be  hankered  arter  even  by  a 
blind  negro. 

I  at  once  (not  knowing  his  faults,  nor  caring  either) 
felt  for  a  dime  to  buy  some  loaf  of  bread  to  divide  with 
him.  My  money  was  "  non  est."  I  found  out  "  a 
long  time  ago  "  that  manna  (nor  money  either)  don't 
rain  down  from  heaven's  "  cloudless  skies  "  as  it  is  said 
to  have  done  in  Good  Moses'  time ;  and  if  it  did  the  hu- 
mane of  earth  wouldn't  get  but  a  mighty  small  "  grab," 
unless  divinely  helped. 

N.  B.  Fools  may  err  and  never  know  it ; 
Wise  men  err  and  never  show  it. 


FIGURES    NEVER    LIE. 


"  If  two  and  two  make  four,  and  two  by  two  are  4, 
and  two  and  three  are  five,  why  ain't  two  by  three  equal 
to  5  ?  Why  !  "  Easy  enough."  Because  they  ain't.  It 
ain't  reasonable  that  it  should  be.  Any  man  that  would 
propound  such  a  question  as  that  (and  that  "  right  in 
the  face "  of  "  such  lights "  as  Emerson  and  Smith) 
ought  to  be  required  to  solve  the  problem  of  "  how  long 
a  man's  nose  might  be,  by  the  giving  of  the  number  of 
mile  posts  his  foot  covers,"  or  "  how  sour  an  old  bache- 
lor can  look,  after  an  evening's  successful  courting  of  the 
chamber-maid  (who  can  now-a-days  be  taken  for  the  mis- 
tress, and  which  he  has  unconsciously  done)  by  the  color 
of  the  maiden's  hair  being  told,"  or  "  how  much  soap 
grease  can  be  pleasantly  secured  from  the  successful  skim- 
mings of  the  stewings-down  of  half-dozen  long-biWd 
musquitoes." 

There  are  a  good  many  things  which  it  are  well  enough 
to  know  the  concerning  which,  perhaps  ;  but  your  Uncle 
Jonas  has  lived  long  enough  to  find  out  that  "  thar  ar  " 
a  great  many  more  things,  the  ignorance  of  which  "  ar," 
or  mought  be,  blissfuller  than  the  "sum"  "intimate 
acquaintance  with." 

Whether  the  "  analyzing  "  of  the  smell  of  "  thorough- 
bred" Limburger  cheese  would  be  of  any  immediate 
benefit  to   the   American  Indian,  so-called,  or  whether 


-  Figures  Never  Lie.  61 

the  chemical  composition  of  biled  owl  would  increase, 
if  known,  the  "  hanker  arter  "  the  dish  by  some  Simp- 
kinses,  I  am  not,  as  yet,  fully  authorized  to  unreserved- 
ly attest  the  wherefore  of.  Where  "  sum  "  good  is  not 
likely  to  accrue  to  him,  or  his  heirs  forever  (?),  your 
Uncle  Jonas  is  not  of  those  who  is  ver}^  anxious  to 
stumble  hastily  forward  in  the  pursuit  after  "  sum " 
so-called  wisdom.  No  !  not  any  more  than  a  "  singed 
cat"  would  be  very  anxious  to  play  a  second  time  at 
the  "  old  game  "  of  pulling  chestnuts  out  of  the  tire  for 
an  exceedingly  insinuating  monkey.  This  working  for 
their  own  glory  (or  anybody  else's  glory)  may  do  for  a 
second-class  street  politician,  or  rat-pie  investments  of 
yery  small  earnings,  saved  from  the  results  of  mental 
and  physical  labor,  may  satisfy  the  cravings  of  a  well- 
ordered  celestial,  but  neither  of  them  won't  answer, 
quite  as  well  as  mashed  potatoes,  for  the  steady  hunger 
of  the  much-suffering  (?)  family  of  Jonas  Simpkins. 

This  striving  after  the  correct  answer  to  badly  con- 
structed conundrums — the  results  of  the  superhuman  ef- 
forts of  a  weak-brained  genius  (?)  that  has  labored  zeal- 
ously and  "at  last"  achieved  a  satisfactory  production 
of  a  poor  pun  or  an  ill-formed  moustache — is  as  happily 
beneficial  to  mankind  in  general,  or  productive  of  gener- 
ous profits  to  investigators  of  scientific  truth,  as  might  be 
the  wading  (?)  of  a  River  Nile  for  an  elephant's  tusk  and 
securing  a  fish-bone,  or  hunting  for  a  needle  in  a  hay- 
stack and  finding  a  poorly-hidden,  badly-digested, 
crowbar. 

As  to  myself,  I  can  say,  with  right  hand  up,  that  I'd 
as  soon  attempt  to  try  to  refute  slander  and  hunt  up  the 
originator  of  it,  or  drive  sweet-scenting  flies  out  of  an 


62  Figures  Never  Lie. 

empty  (?)  sugar  hogshead,  as  to  go  in  that  kind  of  "  biz- 
ness"  for  a  livelihood.  A  man  rarely  ever  "suck-seeds" 
in  securing  the  fastly-moving,  good-natured  exit  of  flies 
from  a  sweetened  hogs-head,  but  he  may  be  suck-sessfull 
in  attaining  to  the  great  excellence  of  becoming  well- 
coated  in  a  well-daubed  thickness  of  sugar  and  flies,  about 
the  head  and  shoulders  (?)  of  his  own  calf :  in  fact,  I'd 
constantly  and  continually  advise  my  boys  (if  I  had  any) 
to  "  keep  well  to  leeward  of,"  or  off  from  around,  sugar 
hogsheads,  with  white  tights  on. 

I  do  not  mean  here  that  sugar  hogsheads  do  wear 
white  tights,  but  that  some  boys  may.  I  say  this,  be- 
cause some  persons  might  think  (or  think  I  meant) 
differently. 

I  do  not  much  think  that  sugar,  and  flies,  and  tights, 
mixed,  present  an  overwhelmingly  pleasing  sight  to  the 
eye  of  a  tasty  admirer  of  the  beauties  of  summer  cos- 
tume. "  Sum  "  may  differ.  But,  now  for  a  butt  about 
figures.  I've  known  moderately  intelligent  young  men, 
that,  from  the  results  of  too  imaginative  a  temperament, 
couldn't  add  four  columns  of  ones,  correctly — either 
supposing  them  right  when  they  were  wrong,  or  having 
them  wrong  when  they  imagined  they  were  right.  I  am 
prepared,  as  a  figurer,  to  state,  from  some  long  experience 
(having  followed  ciphering  before  cheap  "figures"  were 
the  fashion — when  I  had  to  take  to  sawing  "  sum  "  little 
sticks  of  wood  to  procure  baked  bread  for  my  eager 
family),  that  if  four  figures  are  distinctly  "  set  down 
right  under  each  other,"  in  a  row,  that  (by  consulting 
"sum"  standard  arithmetic  instead  of  the  imagination)  a 
sufficiently  correct  "  answer  "  may  be  obtained  for  the 
ordinary  demands  of  a  "  -paying  business." 


Figures  Never  Lie.  63 

Imagination  may  do  to  write  poetry  or  "  spin  yarns  " 
with,  but  it  won't  do  to  add  by  worth  a  naught  (or  an  0), 
no  more  than  it  are  good  for  semiring  dirty  floors  with. 
Sally  Jane — my  wife — says  soap  suds  and  hot  water  are 
the  best  thing  for  much-greased  floors;  and  I  have 
thought  that  brains,  instead  of*"  fancy,"  were  most  sought 
for  by  those  who  desired  correct  figuring  "  done." 

Scrubbing  floors  and  correct  adding  ain't  imaginative 
at  all,  at  least  not  according  to  the  Simpkins'  experience. 
Figures,  systematically  "  stood  up  "  in  a  line,  and  the  line 
carefully  perused  with  your  left  fore-finger  (as  Iucalcu- 
Z#fe")will  prove  the  truth  of  the  assertion  that,  "  Figures, 
like  Geo.  Washington's  little  ax  (?),  could  never  lie." 

P.  S.  There  is  "  sum  "  exceptions  to  this  assertion, 
tho' ;  for  there  are  some  numbers  that — unlike  arithme- 
tic figures — lie  outrageously,  zealously,  and  unceasingly. 
There  was  a  figure  of  a  man  (a  person  that  might  be 
figure-ate-ively  represented  by  a  9,  with  its  tail  off,  the 
9  being  the  estimate  of  his  own  self-conceit,  and  an  0  the 
estimate  that  others  put  on  his  great  moral  and  intellec- 
tual worth  (?) )  that  I  once  labored  for  the  glory  of,  that 
lied  regularly,  s}Tstematically,  and  scientifically.  As  1 
don't  like  much,  if  any,  of  that  commodity,  I  had  to  leave 
— for  unless  I  could  have  oiitlied  Mm,  he  couldn't  respect 
me.  Lieing  may  be  a  good  thing  to  peddle  schnapps  (or 
"  snaps  ")  with,  but  it  won't  usually  fill  your  little  market 
basket  with  much  vegetables  (i.  e.,  rightiy).  My  above- 
mentioned  boss  was  a  vert  imaginative  man,  and  could 
say-we-ar  (not  swear,  oh  no!)  "telling  you  correctly  (?)" 
"  to  an  inch,"  as  to  the  size  of  a  "  tumbler,"  which  al- 
ways "  fell  short  "  an  inch,  if  selling  it  depended  on  its 
magnitude. 


64  Figures  Never  Lie. 

Did  you  ever  make  a  computation  for  this  class  of 
folks  ?  They  take  unto  themselves  the  glory,  as  naturally 
as  fishes  (small)  gobble  worms,  and  with  the  consequen- 
tial air  of  a  drum-major  on  parade  day  ;  or  that  the  little 
dish,  in  the  little  nursery  tale  of  Cock  Robin,  might  have 
assumed,  when  saying :  "-I,"  said  "  the  dish,  with  my 
little  fish,  I  caught  his  blood."  "  Sich  is  life  "  (with  your 
lief,  or  lie-it* ).  Figuring,  except  for  position,  is  below 
par,  and  figuring  for  position  don't  pay  a  steady 
worker. 

A  man  that  "  puts  in  much  time  "  in  getting  a  place, 
don't  intend  "  for  to  put  in  "  much  after  he  secures  it — 
at  least  I  am  led  to  believe  so  from  the  unbiased  obser- 
vations of  others.  This  figuring  for  position  is  nowadays 
very  intriguing,  and  as  to  the  profit,  really  and  honestly, 
to  be  derived  therefrom,  very  "onsartan."  You  hear 
the  Simpkins'  horn  blow,  and,  if  I  may  say  it,  as  perhaps 
ought  not  to  say  it,  before  that  "  thing  toots''  sum  "  chick- 
en "  has  been  usually  peeled. 

Maybe  I  may  become  desirous  after  a  while  that  my 
little  children  may  learn  to  "  do "  "  sum  "  figures  on  a 
slate  at  home — but  never,  I  trust,  on  "  sum  "  character 
abroad. 

This  "cutting  a  figure"  abroad  (on  character)  re- 
sembles somewhat  the  cutting  of  characters  on  the  ice,  of 
a  winter  day  (by  a  skater).  Both  parties  are  liable  to 
secure  a  tolerable  share,  either  of  head-ache  or  head- 
"  brake" — on  account  of  some  contortions. 

A  figure  4,  for  a  "  deadfall ?'  to  catch  rabbits  with,  is 
the  best  figure  to  cut  that  I  know  of. 

Most  of  persons  delight  in  securing  the  able  (?)  ser- 
vices of  a  very  refined  personage  who  can  make  figures 


Figures  Never  Lie.  65 

lie — for  them.   I  haint  up  to  that  standard  of  excellence, 
and  hence  am  not  eagerly  sought  for. 

Who  cares  ?  I  don't !  What  I  lose  in  pewter  dimes 
and  false  position,  I  may  gain  in  self-respect.  Who  can 
answer  \  • 


"MUSIC  HATH  CHAEMS  TO  SOOTHE 
'THE  SAY  AGE  BEEAST."' 


So  I  Lave  hearn,  but  never  having  witnessed  its  suc- 
cessful efforts  in  "  becalming  "  of  a  lone  Injun,  rhinoce- 
ros, alligator,  boa-constrictor  or  she-bear, — nor  in  fact 
as  to  anything  but  a  "  man-monkey,"  tame  organ- 
grinder  or  "  sich," — of  course  I  am  fully,  not  exactly, 
prepared  to  present  an  entirely  disingenious  opinion  on 
this  subject.  I  have  often,  tho' — yes  !  more  often  than 
otherwise — been  convinced  that  people  talk  more  upon 
some  matter  that  don't  especially  concern  them,  and  of 
which  they  know  nothing,  than  would  seem  to  be  enter- 
taining to  their  admiring  comrades,  or  productive  of 
profit  to  themselves. 

This  "  talking  to  hear  one's  self  talk,"  I  should  suppose, 
was,  like  "  talk  much  and  no  drinkee  cider,"  very 
worrying  to  the  mouth  and  muchly  full  of  empty  sug- 
gestion to  the  stomach.  Wishing  to  post  myself  on  the 
subject,  I  tried  various  methods,  and,  among  others, 
Sangerfesting.  Having  seen  a  good  deal  in  the  papers, 
sometime  since  (of  the  blow  kind) — and  among  others 
that  of  "  Ho !  for  the  Sangerfest " — I  concluded  I'd 
try  to  find  out  what  it  all  meant,  and  if  it  were  of 
half  the  importance  "  that  it  showed  on  the  face," 
Sally  Jane  would  have  to  divest  herself  of  "sum"  of 
her  "hidden  treasures"  ("sum"  few  nickels  in   the  cor- 


Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast.  6j 

ner  of  a  knotted  kerchief),  or  I'd  try  to  know  the  why  for 
which.  I  tried  to  learn  and  obtain  (for  the  sake  of  in- 
vestigation for  public  information)  the  cause  of  these 
things.  An  Americanized  Dutchman  informed  me  that 
it  were  a  big  sing  (or  big  thing,  I  don't  know  which),  and 
Sally  Jane  disclosed  the  secret  of  "  wherein  her  fortune 
lay." 

Sally  Jane — "  when  the  spirit  moves  her " — is  very 
brief  as  to  the  use  of  words  to  express  "  thoughts  that 
burn,"  and  on  that  very  account  I  have  mostly  admired 
her.  Her  manner  is  forcible  and  her  language  "  unique," 
for  when  I  ask  to  go,  she  says  mildly  "  Go,"  and  when  I 
don't  seem  to  want  to  depart  worth  a  darn,  she  com- 
mandeth  haughtily,  "  Go-o-o."  I  always  thought  "  I'd 
letter  go,"  then. 

In  the  town  in  which  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep — the 
sleep  of  innocence — I  couldn't  get  a  job  of  cutting  cord- 
wood,  at  a  dollar  a  cord,  or  for  parting  the  hair  for  in- 
tellectual young  men  at  more  than  a  (s)cent  a  minute.  It 
didn't  takee  me  much  longer,  consequently,  than  the 
turn  over  of  an  "  apple  dumpling,"  or  longer  than  a  fice- 
dog's  shortened  tail,  or  longer  than  the  prayers  of  a  sick 
parson,  to  decide  that  some  sing  was  the  only  something 
that  would  either  cure  my  "  lit  of  blues  "  or  ward  off  the 
billious  fever.     Iprejjare  to  go. 

For  your  Uncle  Jonas  to  prepare  to  go,  is  to  "  went." 
So,  with  a  dilapidated  carpet-bag,  well  crammed  with  a 
lonely  "  biled-shirt,"  a  pair  No.  11  socks,  and  a  borrowed 
collar  (of  paper,  of  course),  and  a  half-worn  tooth-pick, 
and  sum  ham  and  hoecake  to  breakfast  on,  on  my  left 
arm  like,  I  sauntered  to  the  place  of  leaving,  and,  "  arter 
awhile"  left. 


68  Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast. 

You  ought  to  just  have  seen  us  Sangers  (for  I  was  a 
Sanger,  or  trying  darned  hard  to  be),  kissing  our  vrows 
goodbye,  and  shaking  hands  with  beer  glasses  and  other 
"friends."  It  were  "rich,"  you  bet.  Shakespeare's 
drama  of  " Much  Ado  about  Nothing,"  when  critically 
acted,  couldn't  come  "no  whar  nigh"  to  the  affording 
of  amusement,  to  grinning  peanut-boys  and  giggling 
girls,  that  this  sad  (?)  leave-taking  of  departed  friends 
did. 

Altho'  our  Sangers  were  sad  (?)  at  starting,  I  seemed 
to  notice  that  they  bore  up  (or  beered  up)  "  pretty  well " 
during  the  voyage ;  in  fact,  I  didn't  discover  that  they 
ever  "  went  back  on  "  any  beer,  provided  the  train  ever 
stopped  long  enough  to  water  it  (the  engine,  I  mean  ;  for 
the  Germans  act  sensible  in  not  watering  their  beer,  as 
ever  I  have  found  out). 

I've  understood  that  a  Dutchman  "  hastens  slowly " 
in  his  successful  attempts  to  "  shove  down  "  some  beer, 
yet  I  would  be  willing  to  bet  that  more  "  lighters  mit 
Sigel "  can  beer  and  cheese  up  (at  a  free  lunch-table)  in 
a  limited  five  minutes  than  the  same  "quantity  "  of  any 
other  class  can  in  an  hour.  (Americans  are  "sum  "  at  free 
lunch  too,  and  the  Teuton  will  have  to  "  look  to  "  his 
"  laurels  "  and  beer  glasses). 

A  vote  was  taken  about  this  time  (by  sum  feller)  for 
"  who  should  have  "  the  "  next  chance  "  for  a  "  cottage  " 
on  the  Potomac,  as  President  of  these  United  States,  so- 
called — but  it  made  "  nothing  out ; "  and  I  guess  by  this 
time  the  vote,  and  the  "  feller  "  too,  are  forgotten  by 
most  of  the  Sangers  "  there  present." 

We,  Sangers,  didn't  care  much,  worth  mentioning,  at 
that  precise   moment,  who  should  be  the  fortunate  (?) 


Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast.  69 

controller  of  "  the  beans,"  or  occupant  of  that  cottage.  As 
we  "warn't"  of  a  "class"  that  "took"  the  moon  for 
"green  cheese,"  just  because  "sum  un"  said  so,  we 
weren't  prepared  to  stand  still  and  hear  it  argued  on. 
No !  not  "just  then."  Lesson  to  "take  to  heart;" 
Never  consult  a  Sanger  about  voting,  nor  preaching, 
when  he  is  "  on  a  sing,"  or  he  may  request  you  to 
"  conclude  your  remarks  "  by  "  singing  him  a  little  song." 
You  may  be  hoarse,  you  know,  and  "  really  can't  sing  " 
(a  maiden's  refrain). 

We  reached  our  destination,  after  sum  tribulation, 
much  beer  (no  bier),  and  "sum  "  sing  ;  and  the  Sangers, 
in  a  body,  were  "  captured  "  by  other  Sangers,  and  taken 
bodily  to  a  first-class  hotel,  of  five  floors.  They  were 
given  (?)  the  fifth  floor  as  a  matter  of  courtesy;  a  reward 
of  merit,  I  suppose. 

Such  rewards  (of  merit),  as  that  above,  have  been 
"my  luck"  in  this  life  generally— but  not  this  time. 

When  I  used  the  word  bodily,  above,  as  regards  San- 
gers, I  didn't  intend  to  signify  that  they  regarded  me 
as  a  Sanger.  For  they  didn't  do  any  such  a  thing — not 
at  all,  "  at  all."  Altho'  I  sang  "  all  the  way  along  "  of 
"  the  little  busy  bee,"  "  Old  Uncle  Ned,"  "  When  the 
swallows  homeward  fly,"  and  "  Old  Lang  Syne  "  (throw- 
ing in,"  for  good  measure"  "  The  little  house  that  Jack 
built,"  "  The  Dutch  soldier"  and  "  The  Dutch  boy  too,") 
yet  I  didn't  seem  to  "jumble  up  well"  with  them, 
altho'  I  kinder  imagined  "  after  while"  that  my  last  two 
attempts  at  "  chin-music  "  my  band  might  cheer.  The 
cheers  never  "  come."  I  have,  after  much  meditation,  led 
my  mind  to  believe  that  music  was  so  far  down  in  either 
their  souls  or  (with  their  beer)  in  the  depths  of  their  pro- 


yo  Music  hath  Char  vis  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast. 

visional  deposit,  that  I  hadn't  sufficient  of  tape-line  with 
hook  attachment  to  draw  out  the  cheers  with. 

Thusly  I  am  cheered.  "  If  nobody  else  cheers  us,  let  us 
cheer  up  ourselves,"  is  my  motto,  when  I  can.  I  can't  al- 
ways can.  I  have  sometimes  thought  (on  the  fly  (?) )  that,  as 
to  a  Dutchman,  beer  always  "followed  music,"  even 
if  music  didn  't  always  come  close  on  to  the  rear  of  some 
beer ;  and  most  oftenly  I  have  seemed  to  consider  that  it 
"are  "only  after  a  consolation,  (?)  "in  the  shape  of " 
some  20  beers,  that  a  German  of  Dutch  descent  could 
make  any  kind  of  a  sing.  Altho'  not  bodily  carried 
away  by  Sangers,  yet  I  were — while  I  gently  wandered 
toward  a  neighboring  restaurant — mentally  overcome  by 
the  emblems  of  "  welcome,"  which  were  hung  on  to 
every  door-post,  window-sill,  and  front  gate-way  that  I 
pass'd.  Near  beer  gardens  there  were  especially  an  enor- 
mous number  of  them. 

(The  right  word,  as  used,  was  "  wilkommen,"  and  it 
was  some  time  before  I  could  correctly  ascertain  whether 
it  were  intended  to  signify  welcome  or  beer.  I  found  out 
all  about  it  (?),  tho',  at  last,  from  inquiry  of  a  well-em- 
blemed Dutch  bar-tender,  who  said  they  had  plenty  of 
welcome,  but  for  Sangers  only;  and  that  beer  was  5 
cents  a  glass.) 

Now,  when  I  reached  the  restaurant,  I  hoped  that  my 
luck  "  might  change,"  that  "begats  bienna  "  would  "  heave 
up,"  and  greet  me  brotherly  welcome.  (I  mean  that 
heave  up  for  the  body  of  "  sum  "  Dutch-man — not  the 
"  body  "  of  some  beer.) 

Not  so  !  A  "  square  meal "  was  only  come-at-able  by 
the  expenditure  of  some  "  loose  "  nickels  ;  and  even  when 
I   sang    (?),  extemporaneously,  "the  good  old   air"  of 


Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast,  j  i 

"  Home,  Sweet  Home "  (where  I  wished  I  might  have 
been),  it  didn't  seem  to  reduce  the  price  of  "  ham  and 
greens "  in  that  particular  locality — not  in  my  particu- 
lar case  at  least. 

Now  I  am  inclined  to  slightly  surmise  that  no 
matter  if  the  air  were  to  resound  with  the  notes  of  such 
music  as  might  delight  the  bosom  of  a  despairing  bull- 
frog, that  nickels  must  be  "  spilt "  for  what  peas  and 
corn-dodger  might  be  required  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of 
any  travel-worn,  thirsty  sons  of  Japheth  (one  of  whom 
at  that  especial  time  I  was)  which  might  pass  that  way. 
Concluding  thusly,  I  sauntered  in  that  provision  stall, 
collared  some  chair,  and  betook  myself  to  my  duties  of 
masticating  raw  beefsteak  and  turnip-soup.  Suspecting 
that  if  any  brass-band,  with  flags  a-fiying,  or  handy  mon- 
key, with  organ  attached,  were  to  attempt  to  "lather" 
the  atmosphere  with  "  sum  moosic,"  I  "  could  kill  two 
birds  with  one  stone,'1  and  drink  in  "  moosic "  (with 
my  ear),  while  I  swallowed  cabbage  (well — with  a  spoon). 

I  ate,  at  least  until  my  jaw  got  tired  wrestling  with 
that  steak  ;  and  then  I  ate  again.  I  "  quit  on  it "  "  arter  " 
some  short  while  (?),  tho',  disgusted  at  my  endeavors  to 
overcome  that  ox.  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  venture  (only 
a  short  ways,  tho',  for  I  don't  care  to  travel  much  more 
m  that  direction ;  at  least  my  jaw  don't)  that  that  piece 
of  primitive  he-bovine,  of  Noah's  importation,  is  being 
"  served  up"  yet  to  a  hungry  people.  I  would  liked  to 
have  had  some  "jaw  "  with  that  animal  when  living,  for 
he  could  undoubtedly  have  enlightened  me  as  to  the 
habits  of  the  "  antediluvian  "  keow  ;  but  not  now  "  no 
more."  I  sympathize  with  the  succeeding  sojourners 
that  tussled,  as  to  their  mouth,  throat,  or  stomach,  with 


72  Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast. 

that  remainder  of  slaughtered  beef;  but  I  pity  mostly 
the  ox  whose  meat  had  to  be  so  mangled  by  the  grinders 
of  contending  thousands,  and  from  whose  bones  some 
naughty  urchin  will  attempt  to  draw  some  "good  and 
old  "  music  for  unsympathizing  maiden  aunts.  May  thy 
bones  lie  still,  and  yet  truth  tell.     Amen. 

But  to  go  on  :  There  was  a  "  hull "  day  spent  in  the 
very  rejuvenating  pastime  of  trying  to  play  Sanger.  I 
whistled  "Old  Kaintuck,"  •  "  Hail  Columbia,  happy 
land"  (which  I  ain't  believed  that  Columbia  were  very 
much — since  she  failed  to  "  buy  up  "  San  Domingo),  and 
"  Arkansaw  Traveller,"  which  I  are  myself.  I  refused 
"  to  let"  to  any  boot-black  my  cowhide  boots,  for  a  cross- 
eyed-squint at,  unless  he  were  clad  in  festive  style,  viz.  : 
Prussian  flags  all  around  him,  American  flags  all  over  the 
top  of  him,  badges  all  down  his  trowsers  legs,  and  a 
Chinese  lantern  or  two  on  his  blacking-box ;  I  uncere- 
moniously "  cut "  every  news-boy  that  wasn't  chanting 
"  Sweet  Fatherland, "  or,  "  Tell  me,  how  '  cum  '  I  so " 
(Simpkin's  new  song) ;  I  didn't  "  know "  any  one  that 
didn't "  sprechen  Deutsch,"  or  wear  a  momentary  beer-mug 
on  the  back  of  his  head,  or  a  long  stem  pipe  in  his  mouth 
(Dutchman  with  a  cigar  in  his  teeth  is  too  new-styled 
most) ;  I  stood  under  the  wide-spreading  (?)  shade  of  a 
full-grown,  but  insignificant  lamp-post,  or  (partly)  under 
that  of  a  very  significant  but  ill-shaped  beer-keg  on  legs, 
for  the  space  of  fifty  beers — about  two  and  a  half  hours 
by  the  ordinary  time-pieces.  (At  a  Sangerfest,  they  usually 
measure  the  time  and  space  by  the  beers,  instead  of  beers 
by  the  time  and  space — the  old-fashioned  method  being 
too  slow  for  the  beers,  if  not  too  fast  for  the  times.  A 
friend  says,  that  a  Dutchman  used  to  walk  a  "square" 


Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast.  73 

for  two  beers,  spending  an  hour  in  his  meditations ;  but 
that  now  he  don't  meditate  a  minute  about  walking  a 
mile,  and  drinking  six  beers  in  about  a  quarter  of  the 
period.  If  my  friend's  remarks  be  true,  "  how  the  world 
does  change").  Yes,  I  stood  there,  as  I  said  above, 
watching  a  long  procession  of  two  men  in  a  row,  with 
w7t  ite  hats  on  ;  and  some  big  brass  bands,  with  no  hats 
on  as  I  saio,  until  I  imagined  that  if  Sally  Jane,  my 
wife,  ever  "  set  her  peepers  "  on  me  again,  'twould  be  in 
the  form  of  "  sum "  soap-grease.  I  went  to  the  hall, 
where  1,500  singers,  "  all  in  a  row  " — like  blackbirds  in 
"  sum  "  pie — ,  made  melodramatic  music  on  short-winded 
pipes,  awaking  Orpheus  from  his  blissful  beer-swilling 
dreams  to  the  life  that  now  is,  and  awakening  sleepy 
news-boys  to  the  prospect  of  fulfillment  of  dreams  of 
"  extras  wanted."  I  kissed  all  the  women  that  were  will- 
ing to  "  salute  "  any  but  a  Sanger.  I  partook,  partly,  of 
beer  with  all  who  were  sufficiently  pleased  (with  my  per- 
sonal voice)  to  treat.  I "  labored  heavily  "  in  the  attempt 
to  extract,  from  a  one-stringed  Jew's-harp,  the  musical 
notes  embodied  in  "  You  recollect  the  joys  when  you 
and  I  were  boys,  John,  together,"  and  "  The  gal  I  left 
behind  me,"  for  all  those  who  "  asked  from  me  a  song," 
at  the  rate  of  a  nickel  a  "stave"  (three  feet  long).  After 
all,  I  found,  from  the  way  the  nickels  were  distributed 
— more  to  their  pockets  than  to  mine — that  but  few  did 
"care  to  hear  me  sing  "  or  play  on  the  Jew's-harp,  either. 
No !  not  much  more  delighted  with  my  Sanger-bility 
were  the}7  than  with  the  "come  to  judgment"  whine  of  a 
brazen  street-preacher,  that  wandered  (in  mind)  from  the 
festive  joys  of  this  world  to  the  ethereal,  aerial  joys  of  a 
future  existence.     His  preaching  was  poor,  his  audience 


74  Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast. 

few,  and  his  nickels  fewer  (nor  mine  was).  I  pity  that 
preacher,  I  do  ;  for  with  warm  water  for  breakfast,  cold 
cabbage  for  dinner,  and  a  swell-up  (on  the  sidewalk)  for 
what  supper  he  got  was  "  purty  tough  "  on  the  conscience 
of  the  owner,  if  that  conscience  had  even  been  a  "  town- 
pump." 

I  was  convinced  of  several  things,  when  returned 
home,  that  I  weren't  before.  I  was  convinced  that  your 
Uncle  Jonas  would  as  soon  look  for  much  happiness  at 
the  place  of  destination  by  simply  purchasing  a  round 
ticket  to  and  from  there,  as  he  would  by  joining  a 
"  band  of  musicers "  to  become  a  Mozart — or  as  by 
adding  2  and  2  together  correctly  to  be  called  a  mathe- 
matician— or  as  by  piling  cord-wood  to  become  a  good 
sawyer — or  as  by  turning  a  hand-organ  to  "turn  out''  a 
good  monkey.  [Good  monkeys  need  to  be  appreciated, 
both  on  account  of  their  scarcity  and  "  tine  qualities,"  as 
well  as  "  sum  "  other  folks — not  that  I  am  one  of  those 
that  am  prepared  to  believe  (like  Darwin  (?)  )  that  my 
grandfather  or  great-grandfather,  or  my  ancestors,  even 
down  to  the  "  Know- A' s  "*  time,  was  a  monkey,  but  I 
do  believe  that  many  could  claim  that  kind  of  relation- 
ship and  not  be  the  least  disgraced.  Of  "  bad  monkey  " 
I  want  nothing,  ask  nothing,  give  nothing,  and  hence 
don't  desire  his  acquaintance  either  in  hash  or  at  a  hand- 
organ.  No,  not  at  all !  I  thank  you — just  a  sufficiency. 
Of  bad  monkey,  a  very  little — like  the  mumps — goes  a 
long  ways  in  the  Simpkins  family.] 

I  am  convinced  that  a  man  that  would  make  5  cents 
out  of  a  dime  trade  with  a  blind  rag-picker  hasn't  much 

*  Jonas,  bad  pun  that  ;  for  Adam  Kuew  A  before  Noah  did — sure. 


Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast  75 

"  music  in  his  soul "  worth  speaking  of — or  if  lie  has,  its 
that  of  the  wheel-squeaking,  tin-box-tied-to-a-dog's  tail, 
fice-dog- whining  kind,  which  wouldn't  tempt  a  sick  kit- 
ten from  the  warm  corner  of  a  worm  fence,  "  much 
less  "  a  respectable  man  to  leave  his  kith  and  kin  to 
travel  many  miles  to  be  disgusted  with. 

I  am  also  convinced  that  playing  on  a  few  beef  bones, 
or  driving  a  tin-wagon  over  the  streets,  that's  bowldered 
much,  ain't  the  kind  of  music  that  the  "  savages  "  I  have 
seen  delight  in. 

I  am  also  convinced  that  most  of  men  are  music- 
murderers,  and  are  morely  pleased  with  those  that 
murder  it  (the  music)  most. 

I  am  also  undeniably  convinced  that  Sally  Jane — my , 
wife — ain't  no  more  pleased  with  the  results  .of  my 
musical  entertainments,  while  gone,  than  I  was. 

1ST.  B. — I  have  "  hearkened  "  to  the  "  mew-sick  "  of 
40  cats  in  a  garret  (or  more  on  the  street)  and  chunked 
at  them  (not  often  tho'),  at  midnight,  with  a  pair  of  old 
boot  heels,  but  without  a-vail,  while  they  serenaded  me 
from  the  side-walk  or  "  lumber  closet  "  ;  I  have  "  inclin- 
ed mine  ear  "  to  the  gentle  seem-funnies  (symphonies  ?) 
distilled  from  a  band  of  brazen  players  on  melodious 
tin  pans,  cracked  try-angles  and  wheezy  clay-pipes ;  I 
have  had  my  "  heart  to  overflow  "  with  mellowness  at 
the  "  transcendently-beautiful  "  productions  of  a  scientific 
performer  on  a  disorganized,  restless  hand-organ,  and 
"  still,  I  breathe  "  (I  imagine)  ;  but  for  liveliness — in 
my  sorrow — give  to  me  the  juice-harp ;  for  courage — in 
the  dark — a  careless  prolonged  whistle ;  for  egg-end- 
tricity — a  chicken's  chirp  (if  they  do  chirp) ;  for  noise — 
a  pair  of  bones ;  for  silence — a  maiden's  whisper  ;  for 


y6  Music  hath  Charms  to  Soothe  the  Savage  Breast. 

kind  heartedness — an  old  man's  laugh ;  for  sympathy — 
a  young  man's  mother's  sigh  ;  and  for  a  general  over- 
flow of  all  that  is  great,  good,  and  grand  in  my  nature, 
the  peaceful  strains  of  ethereal  harmony  flowing  forth 
from  a  full-hearted  violin,  or  the  genial  crow  of  a  well- 
bred  baby. 

That  seem-funny  music  has  never  (I  can  assert 
positively)  filled  up  that  void  in  my  soul  that  real 
music,  such  as  music  of  the  spheres,  is  entitled  to  a  re- 
served seat  in  (if  it  has  never  claimed  it). 


"  WE  WANT  BUT  LITTLE  HEEE  BE- 
LOW, NOR  WANT  THAT  LITTLE 
LONG." 


Had  it  been  a  dirty,  disobedient  urchin,  who — having 
climbed  forbidden  apple-trees  to  the  detriment  of  some 
fond  mother's  "June-pippins,"  or  bird's  nests,  or  waded 
some  outlawed  brooks  to  the  danger  of  some  life  or  sum 
"  breeches," — expected  to  "  witness  the  effects  "  of  some 
careless  birch-rod,  as  wielded  by  the  ruthless  hand  of  a 
much-iujured  and  deeply-insulted  "  parient,"  on  "  sum " 
bad  boy,  and  as  a  natural  result  had  made  use  of  that 
(usually)  very  strong  and  unmeaning  language:  "  I  want 
but  little  here  below,  nor  (do  /)  want  that  little  long," 
the  philosophic  observer  might  have  been  struck  with 
the  force  of  the  expression,  or  the  "  appropriateness  "  of 
the  occasion.  But  for  a  hoary-headed  youth,  of  many 
summers,  without  fear  of  birch-rod  "  before  his  eyes,"  to 
make  use  of  such  expressions,  is,  to  say  the  least,  perfectly 
ridiculous — ridiculous  enough  to  draw  a  laugh  from  an 
erudite  owl,  or  a  smile  from  a  sick  monkey,  or  a  grin 
from  the  face  of  some  toothless,  thin-lipped  old  maid,  or 
a  sigh  from  a  church-mouse. 

Any  one  that  has  observed  much,  has  at  least  dis- 
covered that  we  may  have "  wants  if  we  have  no  needs  ; 
that  some  have  needs  that  don't  have  any  wants ;  that 
a  great  many  more  have  more  wants,  and  needs  also, 


78  "  We  Want  but  Little  here  Below, 

than  will  likely  ever  be  "  fulfilled  "  in  this  world,  nor 
— as  far  as  can  be  officially  reported — in  tlie  world  to 
come. 

I  am  told  that  one  of  "  our  late  (?)  presidents  " — John 
Quincy  Adams — once,  in  quoting  the  above  sentiment  of 


added, 


"  We  want  but  little  here  below, 
Nor  want  that  little  long," 

"  I  find  it  not  just  so  with  me ; 
But  'tis  so  in  the  song." 


As  far  as  "my  experience  goes"  (for  a  few  years  last 
past),  I  have  been  led  to  believe,  seriously,  and  un- 
equivocably,  and  irrevocably,  that  John,  if  not  wise  on  all 
subjects  (as  who  can  be),  was  "  purty  nigh  kurrect "  on 

THAT. 

Songsters,  nor  song-makers,  nor  songs  themself,  are 
not  much  more  fitted  to  rule  nor  guide  mankind  than 
any  of  the  other  instruments  of  man's  inquisitorial 
vanity. 

Songs  may  do  to  sing  "hallelujah"  with  among  home- 
sick females  and  love-sick  swains ;  but  I  wouldn't  quote 
(as  a  general  rule)  them  as  my  doctrine  before  men  of 
"  free  thought "  and  ordinary  intelligence. 

If  I  was  in  the  song-quoting-for-effect  business,  I  think 
now  I  would  prefer  the  juvenile  song  of 

"  Simple  Simon  Simpkins,  how  can  you  do  me  so,"  etc., 

— or  "  sum  sich  " — in  prefacing  my  remarks. 

[Whatever  songs  I  may  have  quoted  (previously) — or 
may  hereafter  quote  (subsequently) — are,  or  have  been, 
or  shall  be,  selected  more  for  the  thoughts  embodied  in 


Nor  Want  that  Little  Long."  79 

tliem  than  for  the  effect  the  songs  themselves  might  have 
on  others.] 

As  far  as  "  my  observation  extends,"  "  men  generally 
want  all  they  can  get,  and  women  all  they  can't  get ; " 
and  the  trouble  is  that  it  continues  so  "  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave,"  and  I  should  judge  that  were  about  as  long 
as  it  are  useful. 

A  "female  woman "  might  say  truthfully,  as  to  her 
branch  of  the  human  race,  that, 

"  We  want,  we  know  not  what ; 
We  want,  what  want  we  not?  " 

I  do  not  make  the  preceding  remark  with  any  inten- 
tion of  disparaging  the  feminine  gender ;  for  if  there  is 
any  one  thing  that  (above  all  others)  I  have  constantly 
and  persistently  admired  "  from  my  youth  up,"  it  hath 
been  lovely  woman. 

Whether  she  were  stuck-up  with  (the  wearing  of) 
bustles,  false  hair,  glass  eyes,  "  Dolly  Yardens,"  "  dollar- 
bargains,"  crinoline,  $1  slippers,  stuffed  calves,  "spring" 
bosoms,  very  white  dentist  teeth,  simpers,  smiles,  whis- 
perings, gigglings,  or  "  what-nots,  "  or  meandered  grace- 
fully and  modestly  along  an  upper  chamber,  clothed  in 
all  "  of  nature's  unadorned  loveliness,"  enwrapped  in  her 
own  thoughts  and  a  thin  piece  of  cotton  cloth  (or  reclin- 
ing (?)  on  a  stool  with  her  little  foot  in  a  wash-bowl  or 
No.  4  brogan) — whether  "uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to 
please,"  or  gushing  as  a  May  shower — I  have  been  al- 
ways, "  nolens  volens,"  "  heart  and  hand,"  "  live-till-I-die- 
kill-who-dare,"  "  sink  or  swim,"  on  their  side. 

I  would  say  just  here  that  if  there  are  any  "  forlorn 
damsel,"  in  ten  miles  of  where  I  used  to  "  hang  up  "  (my 


80  "  We  Want  but  Little  here  Below, 

shingle),  that's  "wrong  side  up,"  to  just  write  me  (it 
won't  cost  but  3c.,  so  the  government  says — and  the 
government  ought  to  know,  if,  with  one  eye  shut,  it 
does  let  "sharpers"  swindle  it), and  if  I  don't  set  them 
up  straight  again — well,  it'll  be  because  I  can't  get  there, 
that's  all. 

As  1  said  before,  without  any  "  malice  aforethought," 
etc.,  so  I  would  reiterate,  that,  maybe,  I  might  try  to 
please  a  man  in  all  weathers  and  succeed  (but  I  now 
think  it  most  "  gosh  darned "  doubtful) ;  but  as  to  a 
woman,  my  experience  (which  has  been  some)  would  not 
justify  me  in  saying  that  I  could. 

I  hain't  once  said  that  woman  is  any  more  responsible 
for  this  state  of  affairs  than  the  "  dog  with  a  tail "  (in  a 
tale)  was,  that,  when  the  "cow  jumped  over  'ther' 
moon, "  he  wasn't  taken  along  as  company— even  if  a  cow 
did  ever  have  so  little  sense  as  to  attempt  such  a  leap. 
If  any  "  keow  "  had  ever  accomplished  a  "  suck-sessful " 
jump  toward  the  skies,  even  if  she  broke  her  own  neck 
in  her  folly,  she  would  have  been  regarded  (in  these 
parts)  as  a  "  mighty  smart,  "  in  fact,  a  very  remarkable, 
"  keow." 

I  ain't  one  of  those  that  believes  that  a  keow  ever  did  it ; 
but  that  this  are  another  instance  of  'Aji<jarathK;hj  'ima- 
ginative delusion  (in  common  parlance,  a  "  whopper");  for 
had  it  have  been  true  all  the  meat  shops  would  have  been 
closed,  from  the  breed  having  been  "  cut  short,  "  by  all 
the  cattle  in  Christendom  having  endeavored  to  follow 
that  "keow's"  example. 

A  few  of  the  wants  that  Jonas  Simpkins  don't  need  ;  a 
few  of  the  needs  he  don't  want  ;  and  the  wants  and  needs 
(partly)    that,    combined,   he  seems    to   hanker    muchly 


Nor  Want  that  Little  Long?  81 

for — with  others  that  he  don't  seem  to  desire — may  pos- 
sibly be  found  summed  up  below  (for  the  guidance  of  fu- 
ture (?)  generations  in  condemning,  as  false,  the  "  want 
of  but  little  long "). 

"  I  want  a  big  form,  all  stocked  ;  (if  I  can  find  a  man  to  tend  it) 
"  I  want  a  barn,  with  corn  well  chocked  ;  (and  a  man  to  shuck  it  for 

me) 
"  I  want  some  cows,  well  milked  ;  (and  some  bright,  new  basins  to 

put  it  in) 
"  I  want  (?)  my  wife  well  silked ;  (and  the  silk  in  dresses  made) 
"  I  want  some  bees  well-hived ;  (and  somebody  to  swarm  them  for 

me) 
"  I  want  (?) '  sum  boss'  long  lived ;  (and  some  groomsman  too) 
"  I  want  (?)  a  '  coach  and  four' ;  (well-'  iled  ') 
"  I  want  (?)  it  at  the  door' ;  ('  not  siled') 

"  I  want  (?)  some  '  coat-of-arms' ;  (with  ancestry  unimpeached) 
"  I  want  (?)  some  '  fairy  charms' ;  (to  "keep  away  the  'eetch' ") 
There's  many  other  wants  (?)  I  have, 
"  The  names  of  which  I  cannot  give"  just  now. 

(I  might  have  written  "  give  "  as  "  gave,  "  and  if  I  had 

intended  to  write  poetry    I  suppose  I  should ;  but  this 

sacrificing  of  "  sense  "  to  "  rhythm  "  is  the  main  reason, 

I  suppose  (?),  why  I  haint  writing  no  more  poetry.) 

"  I    need     some    pair    of    pants,    with     buttons    well 

"  sewed  on  "  ; — plenty   of  ragged  ones  on  hand   to 

stock  a  symmetrically  arranged  second-hand  clothing 

establishment. 

"  I  need   '  several  socks '  that    need  no  darning   done  ; 

— plenty  of  darned  socks  now  ready  for  barter. 
"  I  need  sum  cotton  shirt  with  linen  bosoms  attached  ; 
— the  present   stock    of    mine  hasn't   much   more 
than  a  '  back,'  and  of  a  summer's  day  a  wet  towel 
down  my  back  would  answer  the  ends  as  well. 
"  I  need  some  good    tobacco,  with  a  nice  clay  pipe  be- 


82  "  We  Want  but  Little  here  Below, 

sides  ; — a  box  of  cigars  wouldn't  be  at  all  objected  to, 

Fll  assure  you. 
"  I  need  some  good  old  rye  and  honey  to  '  keep  from  me 

all  harm  ;' — thro'  bilious  fever  and  the  '  huffs.' 
"I  need  some  clothes  for  Sally  Jane,  to  keep  her  body 

warm : — in  cold  weather,  I  mean,  for  fig  leaves  would 

be  '  too  hot  now,'  (July). 
"  I  need  some  things  for  the  little  brats  that  love  their  pa 

to  greet ; — '  with  an  affectionate  kiss.' 
"  I  need  some  meat  and  bread  to  fill  the  mouths  of  all ; 

sugar,  tea,  and  coffee  too,  would  not  go  hard  at  all — 

you  bet. 
(Darned  nigh  making  so  me  ring  (poetic)  then,  I  jing — 
but  I  didn't  mean  to — not  much,  it  ain't  my  style). 
"  I  need  some  '  kindly  '  friend  to  come,  and  give  us  all  a 

call ;  and  let  them  come  and  bring  their  knitting, 

and  johnny  cakes,  and  hard  cider,  and  vegetables — 

' God  willing.'" 
The  other  needs  that  we  do  have  (and  have  had    for 

some  "  leetle  while  ")  we  trust  the  "  Lord'll  supply  ;" 

and   if    he   does,  as  we  have  asked,  we  "  pray  to 

never  (?)  die." 

Our  varied  wants  and  needs  'tis  just  hard  to  proclaim, 

And  if  we  want  what's  needed  most  I  sometimes  doubtful  am. 

We  want,  and  need,  a  friend  indeed  (no  pewter-nickel 

friendship   either,   but   real   gold   coin  that's  been 

tried  in  the  furnace  of  poverty). 
We  want,  and  need,  a  healthy  breed    of    charity  (no 

counterfeit-dime    besmearing,  but  generous-acting, 

kind-word-spoken  charity). 
We  want,  and  need,  an  honest  foe  to  tell  us  well  our 


Nor  Want  that  Little  Long."  83 

faults  and  help  us  to  correct  theni  (and  I  intend  to 
act  thusly  to  my  enemies,  by  publishing  this  little 
volume).* 

We  want,  and  need,  a  weeding  out  of  many  syco- 
phants (and  all  bramble  bushes  from  our  back-yard, 
I  jing  /  do). 

"We  want,  and  need,  a  feeding  well  of  many  needy  men- 
dicants. (I  don't  mind  to  ask  for  bread  for  others, 
but  I  haint  much  on  "  the  beg "  for  myself.  I 
haint  no  Hottentot  missionary,  tho',  for  there  are 
too  many  empty  mouths  near  home  to  feed,  for 
that). 

We  want,  and  need,  good  work  to  do,  to  make  us  cheer- 
ful be  (but  we  don't  bet  on  the  merits  of  the  14 
hour  per  day  system  as  a  generator  of  that  kind  of 
cheerfulness — we  don't). 

We  want,  and  need,  prompt  pay,  for  what  we  do  so  gladly 
do  (the  why  for  which  ask  yonder  laborer  who 
wendeth  his  weary  way  to  the  plank  hut  where  a 
sick  wife  lay — whose  children  are  starving  for  want 
of  the  bread  that  ought  to  be  fed  them  e'er  going  to 
bed — on  a  pile  of  shucks). 

We  want,  and  need,  a  plenteous  shower,  of  generous  sym- 
pathy (no  stall-fed,  but  rather  tear-inspired  sym- 
pathy). 

We  want,  and  need,  of  all  things  most,  a  moral  life  to 
lead  (that  we  may  find  what  we  most  need  that 
mostly  wanted  be). 
P.  S.  If  these  remarks  of  a  woodsawyer  don't  "suit 

your  wants  "  and  needs,  I  am  afraid  (?)  you  will  have  to 

*  Jonas,  after  much    discussion,  has    spelt  volume  correctly,  at 
last.— (Ed.) 


84  "We  Want  but  Little  here  Below, 

get  some  weather-beaten  earthly  saint  "  to  write  yon  up 
something"  that  may  be  "suited  to  your  case." 

I  will  attach,  tho'  (altho'  not  much  on  poetry,  as  I  said 
before),  as  it  is  very  good,  an  article  from  the  fertile  pen 
of  John  G.  Saxe,  for  your  "  pious  (?)  meditation  and 
silent  contemplation." 

Here  it  comes  !  et  verbatim,  et  literatim,  et  punctua- 
tim  ("  word  for  word,  letter  for  letter,  and  punctuation 
mark  for  punctuation  mark."  I  golly,  that  were  a  lengthy 
explanation,  and  I've  always  seemed  to  notice  that  a  man 
that  used  big  words  had  to  take  some  long  time  to  inter- 
pret them — or  else  do  himself  or  his  neighbors  (?)  injus- 
tice). I'd  say  just  here  that  I  hope  that  Mr.  Saxe  won't 
be  offended  by  my  "  spread  out  "  of  his  "  wishing  "  busi- 
ness in  my  little  diary. 

Of  all  amusements  of  the  mind, 

From  logic  clown  to  fishing, 
There  is  not  one  that  you  can  find, 

So  very  cheap  as  "  wishing ;  " 
A  very  choice  diversion,  too, 

If  we  but  rightly  use  it, 
And  not,  as  we  are  apt  to  do, 

Pervert  it  and  abuse  it. 

I  wish — a  common  wish,  indeed — 

My  purse  was  something  fatter, 
That  I  might  cheer  the  child  of  need, 

And  not  my  pride  to  flatter  ; 
That  I  might  make  oppression  reel, 

As  gold  can  only  make  it, 
And  break  the  tyrant's  rod  of  steel 

As  gold  can  only  break  it. 

I  wish  that  sympathy  and  love, 
And  every  human  passion 


Nor  Want  that  Little  Long."  85 

That  has  its  original  ahove, 

Would  come  and  keep  iu  fashion ! 
That  scorn,  and  jealousy,  and  hate, 

And  every  base  emotion, 
"Were  buried  fifty  fathoms  deep 

Beneath  the  waves  of  ocean. 

I  wish  that  friends  were  always  true, 

And  motives  always  pure ; 
I  wish  the  good  were  not  so  few— 

I  wish  the  bad  were  fewer  ; 
I  wish  persons  would  never  forget 
.  To  heed  their  pious  teaching ; 

I  wish  that  pi-actising  were  not 

So  different  from  preaching. 

I  wish  that  modest  worth  might  be 

Appraised  with  honest  candor ; 
I  wish  that  innocence  were  free 

From  treachery  and  slander  ; 
I  wish  that  men  their  vows  would  mind, 

That  women  ne'er  were  rovers  ; 
I  wish  that  wives  were  always  kind, 

And  husbands  always  lovers. 

I  wish,  in  fine,  that  joy  and  mirth, 

And  every  good  ideal, 
May  come,  erewhile,  throughout  the  earth 

To  be  the  glorious  real ; 
Till  God  shall  every  creature  bless 

With  His  supremest  blessing, 
And  hope  be  lost  in  happiness, 

And  wishing  be  possession. 

N.  B. — There  are   some  wants  and  needs,  so-called, 

that  we  don't — not  much — hanker  after. 

We  donH  want  "  nur  nede  "  much  biled  owl — for  din- 
ner, we  don't. 

We  donH  want  "  nur  nede "  much  10-year-old  heifer 
steak — no,  not  for  breakfast. 


86  "  We  Want  but  Little  here  Below." 

We  don't  want  "  nur  nede  "  much  chicken  on  the  half- 
shell — or  hard-biled  egg — especially  for  supper. 

We  doii't  want  "  nur  nede  "  a  well-cooked  and  cut  up 
pair  of  old  rubber  shoes  or  hash — for  any  meal  (that 
I  know  of). 

We  don't  want  "  nur  nede  "  any  ragged  garments — for 
a  change  (?). 

We  don't  want  "nur  nede"  any  sanctimonious 
preaching. 

We  don't  want  "nur  nede"  any  hypocritical  acting.    # 

We  don't  want  "nur  nede"  any  short-winded  friends. 

We  don't  want  "  nur  nede "  any  hack-handed,  ultra- 
pious  foes. 

We  don't  want  "  nur  nede "  any  self-known  sins 
unseen — nor  want  nor  need  to  "  make  things  out 
better  than  they've  been  "  ("  the  wrong  to  appear  the 
right ") — for  temporary  renown.  But  we  can't  answer 
for  others  :  and  they  are  privileged  to  want  "  but 
little  "  or  "  much,"  as  seems  to  them  best  (if  they 
can  "  get  to  it  that  way  "). 
A  friend  says  "  add  "  for  him  that, 

"We  don't  want  'nur  nede'  any  bad  figuring,  or  illy- 
added  numerals — as  there  are  too  many  "  tigurers  " 
now,  so-called,  going  around  '  helping '  delinquent, 
undeniably  vain,  self-adoring,  well-clothed  figurcrs 
out  of  the  errors  of  their  figurative  hallucinations; 
and  that  these  assistant  figurers  are  of  as  much  ben- 
efit to  the  world  at  large,  and  the  community  of 
accountants  particularly,  as  a  robber  in  the  house 
of  a  poor  widow,  or  a  buck-rabbit's  tail  in  fly  time." 
Figuratively  speaking,  they  are  a  "  nuisance." 


"RIDING-  ON  A  RAIL;" 

OB, 

KAILKOADI^G    AS    IT    IS. 


The  old  styles  of  a  good  many  things  "  wot  "  I  know 
of,  would  seem  to  be  "  sumwhat  "  better  "  like  "  than 
those  "  cuts  "  at  present  "  adopted,"  etc. 

I  think  if  I  was  a  feniinine  woman  I'd  prefer  a  "great 
big  "  sun-bonnet  to  an  ordinary  cabbage  leaf — for  a  "  pur- 
ventive  "  to  sun-stroke,  or  over-heat,  or  subsidence  of  "  so- 
called"  beauty. 

(When  I  were  quite  young  there  was  unto  me  a  great 
pleasure  in  looking  down  the  long  lane  of  a  well-washed 
sun-bonnet,  into  the  beaming,  health-inspiring  counte- 
nance of  a  buxom  maid — in  fact,  next  best  thing  to 
joining  of  lips  in  morning  salutation  at  the  other  end 
of  the  lane,  so-called — but  now-a-days  they  seem  to  pre- 
fer ("  sum "  folks  do)  the  kissing  of  hands  athwart  a 
crooked  by-path  instead  of  kissing  "  thro'  the  bars"  of  the 
front-gate.  I  have  often  wondered  if  secket  crimes 
wouldn't  be  of  less  remark  than  it  now  is,  if  good  hearty 
smacking  of  lips  were  more  thoroughly  understood  and 
less  sneered  at ;  and  a  hearty  laugh  over  some  "  well- 
enjoyed  "  (or  jaw-ed)  mash-potatoes  were  preferred  to  a 
whine  over  some  stale  cider  (frothing  champagne)  and 
6taler   "  funniness."     I  have  always  opposed  strenuously 


88  "  Riding  on  a  Rail;  "  or, 

tliis  kissing  of  hands,  ever  since,  when  a  "  courting  "  boy, 
I  kissed  the  leg-of-mutton  paw  of  a  40-year-old  bed-fel- 
low of  the  masculine  gender,  while  I  were  dreaming  of 
the  little  girl  that  "  milked  the  keow  with  the  crumpled 
horn  "  at  the  other  "end  of  the  lane."  I  threw  that 
hand — as  the  taste,  not  suiting  me  even  in  my  sleep, 
awoke  me — away  from  my  deceived  mouthpiece  very 
hurriedly,  unreservedly,  and  unreverently — "you  bet." 
Beware  of  hand-kissing.     I  do.) 

I  think  if  I  were  a  masculine  woman  I'd  much  rather 
select  wood-sawing  as  a  profession  than  making  political 
talks — the  former  being  calculated  to  develop  the  mus- 
cle (for  any  imaginary  or  real  contest),  "  whereas  "  the 
latter  seems  to  only  tend  to  degenerate  the  feelings  of 
the  heart,  and  "  thereby "  prevent  the  well-assorted 
union  of  two  "white  folks." 

I  think  if  I  were  a  capitalist  I'd  prefer  to  Aire  two 
folks  at  higher  wages  to  do  one  man's  work,  than  to 
kill  one  man  on  small  pay  by  making  him  try  to  do  two 
folk*?  work  ;  or  buy  a  small  piece  of  real  estate, ."  so- 
called,"  fix  up  a  park  in  good  style,  and  donate  it  to 
"sum"  poor  people — of  worn-out  brain,  muscle,  or 
pocket-book — for  a  play-ground  for  themselves  and 
their  numerous  progeny,  than  to  support  many  first- 
class  (?)  lawyers,  insane  asylums,  court-houses,  rum- 
shops,  and  penitentiaries. 

[Capitalists  may  not  think  that  they  keep  up  the 
criminal  list  of  the  country,  but  I  do.  If  crime  is  the 
result  of  discontent — discontent,  the  follower  of  much 
work  at  had  pay  or  had  work  at  much  pay — surely  cap- 
ital (the  dishonest,  unscrupulous,  make-the-best-of-a-1  >u r- 
gain-at-whatever-cost-to-another  kind,  I   mean)    is   most 


Railroading  As  It  Is.  89 

surely  the  "  keeper-cp  "  of  crime,  as — and  because — it  is 
the  keeper-no  wn  of  honest  wages.] 

I  imagine  if  I  were  a  boy  again  I'd  much  rather  "  ask 
my  ma "  for  an  apple  out  of  her  basket  (if  she  had 
either  apples  or  baskets)  than  to  run  the  risk  of  a  sound 
flogging  by  climbing  my  neighbor's  apple-trees  for  the 
"  winter  apples"  "  what  he  wants  himself." 

I  surmise  (sometimes),  if  I  were  a  lonely  maiden  of 
some  sixteen  summers,  I'd  rather  "  kiss  and  never  tell " 
than  be  "  hugging  every  boy  in  the  naborhood  " — espe- 
cially as  the  hugging  business  generally  produces  such 
lonely  results. 

I  suppose,  tho',  I  (being  a  laboring  man)  "  have  no 
right  to  think,  "  or  "  say  what  I  think"  but  what  I  know 
— especially  as  from  too  little  money  and  too  much 
age  I  may  not  be  in  a  "  situation  to  understand  "  any  of 
the  above  positions — and  therefore  to  the  "  pint "  (of 
old  rye  and  honey). 

What  I  know,  or  most  anybody  else  knows,  would  not 
take  long  to  "  argue  up,"  I  am  a-thinking :  and  hence 
what  I  know  (?)  I  only  "  seem  to  know."  Others  m&yfeel 
differently,  but  I  ain't  others,  nor  others  ain't  me — and  I 
don't  feel  that  it  would  be  any  "  better  for  me  if  it  were  so." 

Hence,  I  seem  to  know  that  I  like  old  rye  better  than 
stale  beer,  honey  better  than  the  honeycomb,  joy  better 
"  nor  "  sorrow,  a  good  whipping  from  an  irate  spouse 
(with  a  little  switch)  better  than  a  Caudle  lecture,  a 
prompter  attention  of  mankind  to  their  own  business 
than  to  mine :  that  some  little  children  preferred  "  own- 
ing up  the  truth "  as  to  where  those  peanuts  "  kum 
from  "  to  being  berated  with  a  broomstick  by  an  over- 
anxious mother  ;     (this  whipping  business  ain't  rarely 


90  "Riding  on  a  Rail ;"  or, 

ever  necessary,  never  when  reason  or  love  can  conquer — 
and  never  with  broomsticks)  ;  that  1  preferred  a  ride 
on  a  first-class  railroad  car,  with  sleeping  car,  dining- 
saloon,  and  drawing-room  attachments,  than  too  free  a 
ride  on  one  rough,  badly-selected-but-tough  dogwood- 
rail,  or  "  sitting  in  the  parlor,  counting  out  the  money" 
(not  "  counting  on  it  " — that  rarely  pays,  either  for  one's 
worn  pants,  or  conscience),  to  splitting  hard  sappy 
dogwood  into  rails  with  a  dull  weeding  hoe.  [Kail- 
splitting  may  do  for  a  muscular  president  (figuratively 
speaking)  but  a  care-worn  peasant  don't — I've  seemed  to 
notice — hanker  very  strongly  after  "  sum."] 

Railroading  may  be  the  "  riding  on  a  rail,"  but  if  it 
is  they  provide  two  rails  instead  of  one,  give  you  a' 
covered  platform  with  cushioned  seats  to  repose  (?)  on,  a 
boy  to  carry  around  some  freshly-warmed  ice-water,  a  well- 
watered  (?)  engineer,  and  a  smooth-mouthed  conductor  to 
charm  you  with  their  rendering  of  that  well-worn  song, 
"All  Aboard." 

Next  thing  to  kissing  a  (Sally  Jane)  or  talking  poetry 
to  a  pretty,  black-eyed,  blue-eyed,  or  hazel-eyed  (green,  or 
yellow,  or  red  eyes  not  hankered  after)  widow,  or  eating 
buckwheat  cakes  and  molasses,  I  think  I  like  to  hear  a 
corpulent  captain  cry  out,  in  carefully  worded  but  swiftly 
fiowTing accents,  "  All  Aboard" — "  haul  a  board,"  or  "  hall 
haboard."  If  I  had  my  choice,  tho',  1  would  desire  Unit 
the  said  "  capitaine  "  would  take  cognizance  of  my  non- 
completion,  or  ill-depletion,  of  some  hot  rolls  and  V(  ry 
warm  tea,  and  await  the  dissection  and  mild  imbibing  of 
the  same,  before  he  entirely  loseth  control  of  his  patience 
or  his  bellrope,  and  puffs  out  an  ill-digested  "  all  aboard 
— we  start  on  time." 


Railroading  As  It  Is.  91 

A  man  that  imbibes  hot  coffee,  or  attempts  to  dissect 
hard  biscuit  hurriedly,  is  a  disorganizer  of  society,  a  culti- 
vator of  burnt  mouths,  bad  temper,  bad  teeth,  and  sour 
stomach — and,  with  the  builder  of  them  biscuits  and  con- 
coctor  of  that  coffee,  should  be  discouraged.  Did  you 
ever  notice  ? — if  you  ever  travelled  you  "  shurely  hev  " 
— that  "  hot  food "  are  more  often  "  served  up "  at  a 
"  railroad  eating-house  "  than  at  most  any  other  place, 
and  so  much  so  that  if  anybody  hut  "  road  hands  "  want 
a  "  decent  meal  "  they  better  take  it  before  they  depart 
whence  cars  don't  start  in  "  twenty  minutes,"  conductors 
don't  cuss,  nor  engineers  whine. 

I  don't  know  why  cars  always  have  to  start  in  a  hurry, 
without  they  fear  if  .they  don't  make  haste  the}r  can't 
make  a  collision,  or  hot  porridge  is  so  often  furnished  so 
"  glibly,"  without  it  is  that  they  "  donH  exjpect  you  "  to 
squander  much  food,  any  more  than  I  have  been  as  yet 
able  to  discover  the  benefits  arising  to  a  small  family  of 
many  children  from  an  overstock  of  "  hooping  kaugh." 
(Some  of  the  doctors  may  be  able  to  inform  an  eagerly 
inquiring  "  pub-lick  " — I  can't.) 

It  has  been  my  "  onfortinit  "  luck,  heretofore,  (and  per- 
haps now),  to  be  classed  among  that  considerable  number 
that  had  rather  masticate  satisfactorily  some  cold  "  sand- 
which,"  than  swallow  mournfully  at  "  sum  "  hot  apple- 
dumpling  and  wry  coffee. 

Riding  on  a  railroad  car  (at  40  miles  per  hour  I 
mean)  makes  me  very  "  sassy,"  and  I  think  it  hath  the 
same  effect  upon  the  hands  "  on  the  road,"  and  it  even 
permeates  unto  the  silent  "  train-watcher  "  at  every  little 
hamlet  thro'  which  the  train  passeth. 

(This  train- watching  must  not  be  construed  by  some 


92  "  Riding  on  a  Rail.;  "  or, 

very  imaginative  youth  into  the  supposition  that  female's 
"  fashionable  trains  "  are  intended ;  for  altho'  that  kind 
of  watching  is  sassy,  yet  it  partaketh  of  impudence  more 
than  of  rale  progress.) 

I've  seemed  to  notice  that  all  the  hands  from  firemen 
down  to  the  superintendent,  from  car-greaser  down  to  the 
secretary,  from  coupler  of  cars  to  paymaster — and  aL 
parts  of  the  train,  from  the  gum-packing  to  the  gentle  (?) 
whistle — possess  (or  are  "possessed  "  with)  a  superabund- 
ance of  this  snubbingly-progressive,  get-out-of-the-way 
kind  of  persuasion  about  them,  known  by  some  people 
as  sass.  The  superintendent  and  secretary  don't  seem 
to  think  the  car-greaser  and  fireman  much,  but  they  are, 
then ;  facts  are  facts,  and  none  the  less  because  fools 
don't  know  them. 

This  sassiness  pervadeth  the  engine,  the  track,  the  em- 
ployers, and  employees,  of  a  railroad,  and  I  never  knew 
a  well-educated  engine  to  get  off  the  way  for  anything 
but  an  angry  heifer  (and  not  then,  if  beef  were  wanted), 
or  stop  for  anything — except  at  a  station  or  water-tank — 
but  a  snow-storm,  or  a  big  breed  of  locusts  (and  not  then, 
if  snow-plows  were  handy-like,  or  some  ill-fed  Chinese 
lying  around  loose — even  if  then).  Whether  Chinese 
love  locusts  as  well  as  they  do  rats,  I  don't  know,  but, 
from  all  I  can  learn,  I  guess  not. 

If  it  were  some  Irishmen  that  were  to  do  that  snow- 
shovelling,  the  locusts  and  rats  would  not  have  to  be  men- 
tioned ;  but  the  only  thing  that  I  know  "  for  to  fetch  them," 
as  to  the  shovelling  of  some  snow,  Mould  be  some  "few 
pratees,"  and  a  "  little  brown  jug  "  with  a  very  decided 
smell  of  whiskey  about  it,  and  more  or  less  whiskey 
"  lingering  around  it  still" — the  more  the  better. 


Railroading  As  It  Is.  93 

There  are  "  sum  "  railroad  trains  that  run  better  for- 
ward by  running  backward,  with  the  cow-catcher  in  the 
rear  to  fool  them  like ;  for  some  engines  are  like  unto 
"sum  "  mules,  and  "  sum  "  men — they  won't  go  "  worth 
a  cent"  in  the  direction  you  wish  them  to  "glide 
along." 

["  Sum  "  mules,  like  "  sum  "  men  and  "  sum  "  engines, 
won't  either  be  "  driven  or  led  to  water  " — you  have  to 
make  a  flank  movement  by  "  backing  them  up  "  to  it.] 

I've  been  on  this  kind  of  train  of  "  keers  "  before  now, 
and  as  long  as  we  "  backed  "  there  was  plenty  of  wood  and 
water  for  most  any  emergency,  but  as  soon  as  we  at- 
tempted to  move  forward  wood  and  water  were  as 
scarce  as  "drink"  for  a  "ragged  toper"  or  an  "  over- 
wrought "  temperance  lecturer. 

[It  takes  "  nigh  onto  "  as  much  water  to  supply  "the 
varied  wants  "  of  these  "  topers  "  and  lecturers,  as  it  does 
for  those   of  a   disorganized   steam  engine.] 

In  such  a  case  it  is  usually  customary  to  "  cut  and  dry  " 
the  wood  by  the  roadside,  and  draw  the  water  in  a  small 
tin  cup  for  the  supplying  of  the  "varmint"  which  never 
manages  to  stop  on  a  "  giving-out "  occasion  near  any 
"  well-regulated  "  wood-pile  or  water-tank. 

This  providing  of  fuel  for  immediate  use  of  a  worn- 
out  hen-jine*  is  as  "  relaxing "  as  listening  at  a  moon- 
light serenade  of  a  very  wintry  evening  in  one's  night 
apparel,  whose  sleeves,  bosom  and  back  is  missing :  or 
hearkening  to  the  soporific  mutterings  of  an  ill-advised 
Dutch  preacher ;  or  keeping  correct  accounts  for  an  illy- 
inspired,  hskdlj-tempered  Dutch   brewer  of  stale  "  ale;" 

*  Jonas  gets  off  his  pins  occasionally  and  goes  it  wild.  He  has 
spell  henjine  for  engine. — {Ed.) 


94  "Riding  on  a  Rail  •  "  or, 

or  singing  plaintive  ditties  to  the  silent  moon,  while 
waiting  for  a  recreant  "  luv-yer ;  "  or  providing  young 
chicken  from  a  "  naboring  "  chicken-coop  (with  a  bull- 
dog attachment)  for  your  suffering  family — [Ever  since 
trjang  after  young  chicken,  and  awakening  some  bull- 
dog, I  am  opposing  myself  to  the  attachment  business. 
I  don't  like  sheriff's  attachments,  sewing-machine  attach- 
ments, hoop-skirt  attachments,  nor  the  attachments  of 
even  a  fond  young  man.  I  have  no  great  attachment 
for  either  a  bull-dog,  a  he  cow,  abutting  goat,  a  thriving 
thief,  a  renowned  liar,  or  a  kicking  mule  ;  in  fact,  I  am 
confining  my  attachments  to  Sally  Jane,  her  lovely  chil- 
dren and  (my sell).  To  prevent  a  fool  of  s}Tcophant  from 
supposing  that  I  were  a  chicken -marauder  I  would  sa_y, 
to  all  my  readers,  that  a  friend  (?)  offered  to  give 
me  the  chicken  if  I  would  get  it  from  the  coop, 
but  forgot  of  course  to  tell  me  there  was  a  "  dog 
in  the  case" — that  chicken  wan't  "plucked"  by  me, 
you  bet]  ;  or  drinking  old  rye  and  honey  with  a  spoon 
with  no  bowl  to  it ;  or  hugging  a  pretty  girl  with  a 
lover  close  on  to  your  coat's  tail  (this  sayeth  a  friend)  ;  or 
writing  a  discourse  on  metaphysics,  with  some  lovely 
infant  at  your  elbows  crying  for  dry  bread;  or  to  philos- 
ophize on  "  What  Matter  is,"  when  the  stomach  ain't 
"  pleasantly  "  full  of  "  mashed  potatoes  ;  "  or  running 
after  a  locomotive  that  is  obedient  to  the  "forward 
movement  "  and  just  about  moving  "out  of  sight,"  if 
not  "  out  of  mind  ;  "  or  swallowing  hastily  "  some  con- 
siderable" dose  of  "kaster  ile  "  under  the  ill-judged 
impression  of  its  being  very  old  "  rye." 

[This  "ile"  case  is  another  illustration  of  "things  not 
being  as  they  seem,"  for  altho'  "  old  rye"  runs  slowly, 


Railroading  As  It  Is.  95 

like  "  ile,"  yet  it  don't  have  a  taste  like  unto  "  ile."  Not 
much  it  don't.    I  don't  "  try  to  fool  "  my  baby  that  way.] 

While  I  am  much  in  favor  of  old  styles  (not  stiles — 
either  for  Mary's  lover  to  sit  on,  or  Sally  Jane's  hus- 
band to  write  with),  I  yet  am  willing  to  "  kon-seed  " 
some  merits  to  some  of  the  new,  and  for  the  present 
style  of  "riding  on  a  rail,"  I  will  do  my  best  to  "  hur- 
rah." There  must  be  this  "  distinct  understanding," 
tho' — should  I  (after  "  taking  a  smile ")  attempt  to 
achieve  some  "hurrah" — that  the  present  head-Z /<//-£ 
be  put  on  the  beak  of  the  cars,  to  enable  the  bralceman  to 
see  "  if  ioe  have  got  over  the  ground  "  without  tearing  tip 
some  loose  rails  for  the  next  train  of  cars  to  stumble 
over,  and  that  "  the  railroad  company  "  place  uncere- 
moniously,  on  each  cow-catcher,  a  president,  and  also  a 
long  pole  on  tohich  shall  complacently  rest  a  disinter- 
ested chemical  light  that  shall  give  light  many  rods 
ahead,  behind,  about,  and — according  to  the  needs.  I 
might  explain  here  that  the  president  should  carry  the 
end  of  that  pole  on  the  centre  of  his  paunch,  something 
like  unto  a  color-bearer,  so  that  ifstrxick,  as  to  the  pole,  the 
adipose  condition  of  said  paunch  would  answer  as  bub- 
bee  and  cause  a  rebounding  of  the  attacking  train,  or 
kill  the  pbesidents  (putting  their  lights  out  forever),  or  both. 

[I  don't  charge  (never  did  believe  in  charging  "  much 
anyhow,"  especially  railroad  companies — for  if  they  can't 
pa}r  promptly  for  a  lame  goat  that  they  have  de-tached 
from  this  sublunary  sphere,  they  can't  likely  pay  any 
large  "fees"  for  de-taching  their  president),  for  these  re- 
marks, but  a  few  "  free  tickets "  (which  are  generally 
lying  around  loose  for  preachers  and  capitalists)  for  Sally 
Jane,  the  children,  and  myself  (not  over  a  car-load.   You 


96  " Riding  on  a  Rail';"  or, 

see  I  am  &  consider -rate  man,  as  I  put  my  wife  before 
mj^self  on  all  occasions — especially  in  a  '*  bar-lite." 

The  reason  I  don't  make  any  "  pay-coony-ary  "  charge, 
is,  because  I  expect  to  get  the  free  tickets  (if  not,  why 
not  ?),  and  hence,  if  my  advice  is  followed,  the  lives  of 
my  interesting  family  may  (?)  be  preserved  from  an  un- 
timely ending.] 

If  the  companies  could  only  understand  that  a  few 
presidents  thus  martyrized,  and  a  few  lights  (animate  and 
inanimate)  thus  put  out,  would  save  to  them  a  vast 
amount  of  "  so-called  "  currency  and  railroad  bonds,  and 
the  necessity  of  negotiating  for  the  favors  of  scrap-iron- 
dealers  be  prevented,  I  have  no  doubt  but  a  speedy,  yet 
satisfactory  conclusion  would  be  arrived  at.  The  election 
of  presidents,  if  more  frequent  at  first  after  a  while  they'd 
be  apt  to  be  fewer,  would  be  more  unanimous  as  to  the 
"  call  of  many"  and  the  answer  of  "  but  few  "  to  "  choose  " 
among ;  and  those  that  did  "  get  chosen  "  would  culti- 
vate less  sumptuous  living — eating  chalk  or  drinking 
"  vinegar  bitters,"  to  "  bring  down  "  their  "  fat " — and 
thereby  a  great  deal  of  show,  at  railroads'  expense,  be 
dispensed  with. 

'  P.  S. — A  few  more  well-paid,  well-caparisoned  switch- 
tenders  might  be  well  afforded  from  the  money  (un- 
doubtedly) saved  from  the  care  taken  as  above  advised — 
and  to  the  much  delight  of  switch-tenders,  their  suffer- 
ing families,  and  their  too-confiding  grocerymen. 

Switch-tenders  {good  ones)  are  necessary — so  I  have 
been  inclined  to  believe,  from  my  boyhood  to  hoary  age 
— in  every  branch  of  life,  and  especially  to  families  and 
railroads. 

They  should  outnumber  the  presidents — even  by  my 


Railroading  As  It  Is.  97 

new  arrangement  (?) — and  should  be  better  paid  ;  as  most 
of  men  would  like  (?)  to  be  president,  but  very  few 
would  choose,  naturally,  the  lonely  position  of  switch- 
tender. 

With  a  few  more  (?)  presidents,  and  a  larger  and 
better  "  crop  "  of  switch-tenders,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
railroading  will  (from  the  primitive  one-rail  system)  grow 
to  be  the  mighty  lever  that  (somewhat  like,  yet  quite  un- 
like, the  aforesaid  one  rail  at.  a  "  log-rolling  ")  is  to  "  up- 
turn," yet  overturn,  the  mental  chaotic  mass  engendered 
by  man's  ignorance,  and  bring  about  an  era  of  good- 
feeling  and  intelligence  that  will  drive  into  the  gulf  of 
oblivion  the  symbols  of  despotic  wrong  and  usurpation. 
If  not !     Why  not  ? 

1ST.  B. — It  were  on  a  railroad  that  I  first  learned  the 
mysteries  of  the  egg's-end-trick  (from  which  they  have 
styled  me  the  eccentric — egg's-end-trick — wood-sawyer). 
I'll  relate : 

The  mystery  does  not  lie  in  making  it  stand  on  its 
little  end,  like  Columbus,  the  great  "navvy-gaiter," 
did,  but  in  buying  some  few  soft-biled  eggs  from  an 
impecunious,  irrepressible,  indefatigable  vender  of 
"  fresh  (?)  eggs,"  poor  jokes,  stale  cake,  and  unhatched 
chicken,  and  taking  one  (the  "  first  one  is  as  good  as  any 
— no  choice  ")  in  the  unsuspecting  fingers  of  the  right 
hand  (or,  if  "  yer  a  left-handed  man,"  take  it  in  "yer" 
left),  striking  the  egg,  "  so-called,"  on  the  window-sash, 
and  having,  as  it  is  raised  to  the  receptacle  for  mastica- 
tion, a  newly-fledged  chick  eject  its  juvenile  head  from 
the  "  half  shell,"  and  present  its  bill  for  cancellation.  A 
dark  car,  illy-H<j/d<d  (as  is  most  generally  the  case  on 
such  occasions),  is  the  best  place  for  performing  this  feat 


98  "Riding  on  a  Rail." 

of  cancellation — by  swallowing  some  chick  from  tlie  half 
shell— as  you  can  then  use  your  imagination  to  the  impress- 
ing ol  mind  and  stomach  that  it  is  "all  right."  My  stomach, 
tho'  it  might  be  fooled  by  imagination  (as  I  discovered), 
yet  it  wouldn't  stay  fooled  (as  I  also  discovered),  as  I  had 
to  seek,  on  that  occasion  of  diving  into  mysteries,  or 
having  mysteries  dive  into  me,  the  rear  end  of  that  car 
hurriedly,  and  to  the  much  astonishment  of  an  old  lady 
who  sat  near,  and  the  much  disgust  of  the  aforesaid 
vender  of  chickens — whose  stock  of  embryo  feathers  was 
scattered  around,  scrambling  (and  scrambled)  promis- 
cuously, as  he  ignorantly  wandered  athwart  my  path — 
and  to  the  great  present  regret,  but  after-satisfaction  of 
Tout's  Truly.  I  have  never  been  much  on  railroad 
eggs  or  stray  mysteries  since — I  am  prepared  to  state.  I 
have  given  you  some  of  my  knowledge  of  mysteries,  but 
if  you  want  any  more  I  ain't  ready. 

P.  S.  2. — A  question  I'd  ask,  which  is  this :  "  How 
kums"  that  "fresh  eggs"  along  railroads,  are  so  pro- 
lific of  young  chickens  ? 

Are  it  "  bekase  "  they  are  laid  in  a  fast  "  section  ?  " 


"WESTWARD  THE  COURSE  OF  EM- 
PIRE TAKES  ITS  WAY.11 


It  seems  to  me — that  is  called  Jonas  Simpkins  for 
short,  and  that's  a  wood-sawyer  from  necessity — that  the 
man  what  made  that  assertion,  was  as  nigh  correct  as  it 
is  customary  for  the  "  general  run  "  of  mankind  to  "  get  to 
be,"  in  this  transit-ory  state,  "  so-called." 

What  "  awakened  "  me  to  "  this  conviction "  was  a 
recent  trip  to  a  place,  on  the  Mississippi  River — the  same 
one  on  which  "your  Uncle  Jonas"  is  said  to  have  had 
his  hatching,  and  on  which  the  biggest  men  from  the 
smallest  origin,  the  sweetest  women  from  a  lump  of 
white  sugar,  and  the  tallest  cotton-stalks  "for  the  size 
of  the  seed,"  are  said  to  be  continually  produced — called, 
by  those  who  are  said  to  be  "  posted,"  St.  Louis. 

It  is — from  a  three  day's  "squint-eyed"  view — a 
"  mighty  big  place,"  and  one  which,  with  a  "  back  play- 
ground "  of  half  a  continent,  for  its  young  men  and 
maidens  to  "  romp  over,"  and  the  old  men  and  children 
to  play  "  hide  and  seek  "  on,  has  a  fine  prospect  of  plenty 
of  fun  and  work  for  the  present,  and — as  a  natural  con- 
sequence— a  very  "fine  growth  "  in  the  future. 

This  St.  Louis,  so-called,  is  a  kind  of  "  wholesale " 
halting  place  for  those  desiring  to  clear  their  eyes  of  the 
smoke  of  their  ancestors'  chimney-corners,-  on  their  way 


ioo  Westivai  d  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way. 

across  the  continent — whether  bound  eastward  from  the 
fertile  prairies  of  the  West,  or  journeying  westward  from 
the  stone-clad  hill-tops  of  the  East. 

After  some  meditation  about  the  why -for  and  wherefore 
ot  this  tending  of  the  Course  of  Empire  Westward,  I  have 
about  "  kum  to  the  konklusion  "  that  it  were  on  account 
of  there  not  being  "  squatting  ground "  sufficient  up 
East  to  raise  good  size  "dung-hills"  on.  Out  to  the 
westward,  I  am  told,  they  are  "  purty  good "  on  raising 
these  dung-hills,  one  man  raising  as  many  as  a  "  phew  " 
in  one  year,  if  he  were  a  good  "  squatter." 

If  visiting  Niagara  Falls'  sublime  beauties,  or  "  parley- 
vous-ing  "  "  sum  "  "  fairy  belle  "  (of  two  hundred  pounds 
weight)  in  the  classic  (?)  halls  of  New  York's  Fifth  Ave- 
nue "  Hotel,"  is  a  "  big  thing,"  the  eating  in  St.  Louis  of 
mashed  potatoes  from  the  fresh  soil  of  the  "Noble  West" 
is  second  cousin  to  a  big  thing. 

In  this  "  pasturing  "  business  they  of  St.  Louis  are  a 
success,  so-called — both  in  the  way  of  cattle  and  men. 
One  small  establishment,  in  "  one  day  only,"  "  ban- 
queted "  some  3,500  people,  so-called,  varied  as  they 
were  both  in  appetite,  and  breadth  of  stomach,  and  com- 
plexion. I  don't  really*  know  whether  their  appetite  or 
their  stomach  "had  anything  to  do"  with  the  establish- 
ing of  their  complexion,  their  complexion  and  appetite 
with  forming  their  stomach,  or  their  stomach  and  com- 
plexion with  satisfying  their  appetite.  The  doctors  can 
tell  you,  maybe.  When  I  want  to  settle  a  thing  of  that 
kind  I  generally  hunt  up  a  doctoe — for  one  doctor  will 
say  it  don't,  and  another  say  it  does — of  my  particular 
belief,  get  his  views  in  full,  and  perhaps  (()  swallow  them 
unmasticated. •  At  least,  if  /don't,  most  people  do.     My 


Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way.  101 

opinion — unquestionable,  yet  non-belligerent — is  that  ap- 
petite, with  aid  of  stomach,  will  tend  to  establish  a 
complexion — that  complexion  don't  necessarily  form  a 
stomach,  but  appetite  do — and  that  if  stomach  is  full, 
appetite  may  be  satisfied,  altho'  this  last  don't  necessarily 
follow  as  to  "  sum  "  folks. 

Did  you  ever  notice  how  readily  hot-el  folks  wait  on 
some  fair-complexioned,  big-paunched  keeper  of  a  huck- 
ster shop,  and  let  a  little,  dry'd  up,  "  sallow-complected  " 
chap  of  much  brains  wait  for  his  hash  till  his  "  little 
feet "  get  asleep  from  too  long  occupying  the  position  of 
(or  like  unto)  "Patience  on  a  monument." 

When — after  "  glutting  with  "  rare  and  loaded  dishes 
— the  fat  man  and  friends  were  full,  the  "little  feller" 
got  his  grub  fetched  to  him  on  a  "leetle"  soup-plate, 
about  full  enough  to  satisfy  one  dip  of  the  gaudy  spoon. 
His  smile  were  pitiful  to  behold.  "  Patience's  "  on  that 
"  monnyment  "  were  a  broad  grin  to  it.  I  don't  know 
as  I  ever  saw  one  of  them  little  folks  "  ever  get  sup- 
plied"— whether  because  his  appetite  were  large  and  his 
stomach  small,  or  his  stomach  small  and  appetite  large, 
I  can't  say ;  one  or  t'other,  or  both,  I  bet.  But  to  go  on. 
(I  must  cease  philosophizing.)  That  little  place  where 
so  many  got  fed  in  a  day,  and  at  25c.  per  meal,  Jonas 
got  fed  at  too  ;  and  if  they  lost  anything  by  "grubbing" 
me  they  were  courteous  enough  not  to  say  so.  I  "payed 
out'''1  my  25c.  "like  a  little  man,"  if  I  didn't  eat  like 
one.  In  fact,  in  this  kind  of  discussion — of  the  beauties 
of  successful  pnsturing,  I  mean — my  wai ter,  Milton  Evans, 
a  lately  enfranchised  American  citizen  of  African  descent, 
says,  "I  am  sum,"  or,  in  his  words,  "for  a  small  man, 
you  can  weed  your  row  (of  potatoes)  and  '  get  around ' 


1 02  WesHvard  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way. 

some  vegetables  better  and  quicker  than  most  any  man 
I  ever  sawed"  And  Milton — not  the  poet — or,  in  other 
words,  I  don't  think  he  was  a  poet,  for  I  don't  believe 
he  had  much  time,  if  he  had  the  inclination,  to  write 
much  poetry,  for  I  have  thought  that  to  write  a  little 
good  poetry  would  take  about  as  long  as  to  form  a  beau- 
tiful (?)  little  political  procession — every  thought,  like 
every  man,  wanting  to  "  go  up  head  " — -Yes !  Milton  ad- 
ditionally said,  that,  since  {my)  Jonas's  arrival,  he  ima- 
gined "  he  had  diskivered  the  use  of  legs  "  (as  a  means  of 
locomotion,  I  suppose).  And  if  all  discussed  pork  and 
beans,  mashed  potatoes  and  fried  onions,  as  I  did  (and 
always  do — unless  I  have  the  cramp-colic,  or  the 
mumps),  I  can't  see  where  the  cooks  and  waiters  get 
much  time  to' take  any  "drinks  between  drinks"  (or 
read  up  politics)  or  wherein  the  landlord  "gets  his  money 
back"  (or  the  "joke  comes  in  at"  for  him). 

I  have  often  seemed  to  notice,  tho,'  that  those  "Western- 
ers,"  so-called,  "  never  go  back  on  a  trade,"  but  "  stick 
the  closer  to  a  bad  bargain  ; "  and  if  you  are  the  "  lucky 
chap "  to  "  checkmate  them "  the  first  time,  and  take 
the  "  corn,"  they  will  "  trust  to  luck  "  to  "get  even  with 
you,"  in  an  honest  way,  the  next  time  ;  and  flu*  the  time 
being  they  are  as  pleasant  to  you  as  a  June  zephyr, 
making  you  believe  that  it  "were  a  favor  to  them  "  to  be 
the  "  means  of  gratifying  "  your  desire  to  be  the  winner. 

I  shake  hands  with  that  kind  of  men,  not  with  my  two 
fingers,  but  with  both  hands ;  and  if  I  were  not  religiously, 
so-called,  opposed  to  hugging  anything  masculine,  I'd 
"  squeeze  'em  "  with  both  arms. 

[As  it  is,  I  propose  to  sell  them  my  little  book,  and  let 
'cm  get  back,  by  laughing  at  me,  some  of  the  money 


Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way.  103 

they  lost  by  feeding  me.]  I  have  been  conscientiously 
disinclined  to  squeeze  anything  but  feminity,  tko',  since 
I  got  "slightly  intoxicated  one  night  in  my  early 
youth,"  and  "  squoze  "  a  lamp-post  so  hard  as  to  make 
the  glass  rattle  in  the  upper  chamber  thereof,  and 
bring  blood  to  the  finger-ends  of  your  (then)  very  "  dis- 
consolate uncle." 

(I  have  learned,  through  that  adventure,  that  mixing 
drinks,  and  drinking  them,  and  squeezing  lamp-posts, 
ain't  a  healthy  pastime.) 

In  that  oddly-built  city  of  magnificent  distances — St. 
Louis — there  are  a  few  (and  not  only  one  few  but  many 
fews)  of  large  houses,  large  men,  pretty  women,  big 
cakes,  sweet  candy  (I  tried  the  candy,  as  I  were  buying 
some  for  Sally  Jane  "  and  the  babies,"  as  who  don't), 
good  cigars  (a  treat  from  a  mercantile  friend),  and  a  big- 
souled  population,  fine  parks,  botanical  gardens,  etc., 
some  of  which  I  "  hev  "  seen  and  "  sum  "  of  which  I 
"haint"  seen,  nor  don't  imagine  I  soon  shall  saw ; 
but,  with  all  its  mightiness,  it  don't  seem  to  equal  (nor 
try  to  neither)  many  a  suburb  that  your  Uncle  Jonas 
could  mention,  either  in  the  number  of  its  dog-fights  or 
the  "  airs  of  its  citizens."  [Why  this  are  so  I  know  not, 
unless  it  are  that  small  towns,  like  diminutive  men,  try 
to  make  up  by  the  persistency  of  "  blow  "  what  they 
lack  in  strength;  and  I've  seemed  to  notice  that  they 
that  do  the  most  Mowing  are  doing  the  least  amount  of 
anything  else — perhaps  because  it  seems  to  take  so  much 
time  to  do  "  sum  "  blow.] 

The  "  Great  West,"  the  strong  son  and  beauteous 
daughter  of  the  western  hemisphere,  don't  need  any 
blow.    Its  mightiness  is  assured,  naturally  speaking,  "  as 


104  Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way. 

by  the  will  of  destiny."  Among  all  the  greatness  of  this 
"  western  country"  the  great  city  of  St.  Louis  looms  up 
as  the  reservoir  from  which  all  supplies,  artificial  and 
comforting,  are  obtained,  and  hence  its  financial  pros- 
perity ;  and  into  its  bosom  pours  all  the  product  of  every 
clime,  and  hence  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of  its  women, 
the  strength  and  manliness  of  its  sons. 

A  short  interval  of  time  don't  give  any  great  oppor- 
tunity of  contemplating  the  beauties  of  any  subject, 
place,  or  thing,  hence  I'll  enter  into  part  of  the  subject 
through  the  side-door  of  my  imagination,  and  I  can't 
promise  that  it  will  be  thoroughly  well  treated,  as  ima- 
gination ain't  reality,  nor  side-doors  ain't  my  usual  door 
of  approach.  The  beauties  of  the  front  yard  and  the 
play-ground  will  consequently  not  be  very  apprecia- 
tively portrayed.  [You  may  have  to  learn  how  to  "  poor- 
tray  "  some  snappish  cur  by  entering  the  side  door-way, 
but  snappish  curs  ain't  a  good  subject  to  discourse  on  to 
a  highly-intelligent  audience.  Being  unused  to  a  thing 
makes  a  man  awkward,  I've  seemed  to  have  learned,  as 
to  handling  any  thing,  whether  it  ho  hoes  or  chem- 
istry.] The  thirteen  railroads  that  rush  their  trains 
daily  into  her  midst  "ain't"  no  contemptuous  spectacle  ; 
its  parks,  with  their  pagoda-shaped  pavilions,  miniature 
lakes,  statuary,  live  swans,  nicely  gravelled  walks,  ex- 
tended lawns,  and  eating  saloons,  are  no  insignificant 
sight ;  its  big  City  Hall,  looking  somewhat,  tho',  like  some 
squatty  Dutchman,  with  a  short  clay  pipe  in  front  and 
beer  glass  hung  behind,  with  a  very  tall  beaver  on  (the 
Dutchman,  not  the  beer  glass — I  mean)  is  no  ordinary 
aflair;  but  above  all,  in  all,  and  through  all,  is  the  aroma 
arising  from  the  garden — of  Shaw's — which  I  could  no 


Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way.  105 

more  be  correct  in  describing  the  sweetness  of,  than  Peter 
the  Great  might  have  been  in  timing  a  much-injured  harp- 
sichord to  the  air  of  "  I'll  not  go  home  till  morning,  etc.," 
or  "Old  Dan  Tucker."  Now  for  fact!  I  often  have 
wished,  since  I  see  it,  that  I  lived  in  St.  Louis,  and  I 
owned  that  garden — its  parterres,  rustic  bridges,  pavil- 
ions and  well-arranged  walks,  with  its  "  keeper's  house" 
and  "  Botanical  museum  and  library,  established  1859, 
by  H.  Shaw,"  are  a  fine  thing  and  a  great  thing,  so-called. 

[I've  understood  that  Mr.  H.  Shaw  "  ain't  any  kin  " 
to  H.  M.  Shaw — "  our  Josh" — but  would  it  be  of  any 
harm  to  either  party  if  he  were  ?  As  if  H.  Shaw  has 
planted  a  garden  with  trees  and  aromatic  plants  of  every 
kind,  that  under  the  influence  of  a  heavenly  sun  have 
grown  and  thrived,  so  has  H.  M.  Shaw  (Billings)  built 
him  a  bower  where  the  world  can,  one  at  a  time,  rusti- 
cate and  invigorate,  and,  with  " good-natuve "  and 
humor,  may  revel  in  the  sunshine  of  humanity's  brightest 
hours.] 

The  garden  proper  is  composed  of  flowers,  shrubs, 
trees,  and  buds,  growing  as  naturally  as  tho'  ootxn  there, 
and  looks  as  harmoniously  lovely  as  the  garden  of  Eden 
is  said  to  have  looked  ("  barring ''  the  alligators  and  sich, 
which  we  didn't  hanker  after  a  sight  of,  anyhow)  e'er  Mr. 
Adam  bit  that  apple. 

The  repository  just  mentioned — I  mean  the  museum 
and  library — is  a  fine  building  with  frescoed  roof,  and 
contains  well-arranged  samples  of  seeds,  fibres,  and  plants 
of  every  kind,  gathered  from  every  country  and  clime 
(except  that  one  that  is  so  hot  that  no  seed  sprout  nor 
flowers  bloom  there,  as  we  know  of) — peas  from  Russia, 
corn  from  Spain,  cotton  from  Hindostan,  and  wool  from 


106  Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way. 

Africa  (no  pun  intended,  for  I  ain't  around  "  shearing 
black  slieep"  now) — and,  in  the  animal  line,  everything 
from  a  stuffed  pelican  to  a  "  ditto  "  cat-bird,  from  a  deer 
to  a  squirrel ;  and  everything  represented  as  correctly 
(almost)  as  nature  herself  might  have  done  it.  Oh  !  it's 
a  big  thing  ! ! ! 

I  am  "a-going"  to  try  to  study  botany!  if  I  can  get 
some  "thyme"  The  scene  there,  with  the  beautiful 
women  and  cool  breezes,  made  me  think  of  Paradise  as 
it  were  when  Eve  was  just  in  stall  ed— before  she  "raised 
that  gale  "  that  sent  us  all  to  windward. 

(Some  writer,  in  a  little  town  that  I  resided  in  once, 
wrote  a  little  pamphlet  in  which  he  pretended  to  try  to 
prove  that  Eve  warn't  no  human  being.  Its  title  was 
either  that  of  some  Vandal,  Goth,  or  Hun.  As  his 
structure  was  not  Gothic,  so  his  phrases  were  hun-eyed 
(not  honeyed),  and  his  argument  Vandalish,  so  far  as  I 
read  /  and  with  all  due  respect  to  his  private  character, 
I'll  bet  his  grandfather  was  a  Darwinian.  Just  thinking 
about  "  them  breezes "  made  me  strike  a  Mow  for  my 
mother  and  the  rest  of  the  women.) 

Their  gentle  fingers — the  breezes,  I  mean — toyed  with 
my  hoary  locks,  and  I  was  happy  ;  at  least  I  would  have 
been  could  I  have  had  near  me  Sally  Jane  and  the  "  chil- 
ders,"  whose  eyes  (it  "makes  me  weep  briny  tears"  to 
think)  may  never  see  the  beauties  of  this  garden. 

Happy  St.  Louis  !  that  "  had "  such  a  Shaw — with 
head  to  plan  and  heart  to  adorn  ;  and  happy  Shaw  ! 
to  have  such  a  St.  Louis  to  give  it  to,  at  some  future 
time,  and  may  it  be  long  first,  for  St.  Louis  can  better  do 
without  the  bequeathing  of  the  garden  than  it  can  with- 
out the  enterprise  of  her  Shaw. 


Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way.  107 

[Some  folks — I  don't  mean  St.  Louis  folks  now — don't 
prize  what  they  have.  Back  in  the  past,  distantly,  an 
ancestor  of  mine  (no  monkey,  neither)  once  had  a  little 
flower  presented  by  a  departed  friend ;  it  withered  away 
like  its  donor,  died,  crumbled  into  dust,  was  taken  from 
the  open  window-sill  (where  it  had  dropped  from  an  open 
book  near  by)  by  the  breath  of  heaven,  and  let  gently 
down  again  into  a  little  damp  spot  of  earth,  where  the 
seed — still  in  the  dust — mingled  with  the  soil,  and  by 
aid  of  gentle  showers  and  genial  sun,  without  nurture 
from  man,  was  generated  into  life,  sprouted,  bloomed,  and 
grew,  until  now,  under  the  shadow  of  it,  I  can  rest  re- 
freshed— reclining  'neath  its  umbrageous  foliage,  upon  its 
gnarled,  but  deeply-bedded,  wide-stretching  roots ; — and 
praise  God,  that  he  looks  after  each  of  us — nor  let's 
"  pumpkins  grow  on  trees,"  nor  crab-apples  on  whortle- 
berry bushes.]  I  had  seen  Hercules'  Club  and  the  Apple 
Adam  bit  (at  least  I  want  to  imagine  it  were),  and  I  was 
willing  to  depart  in  peace — or  for  peas  either — for  I  was 
inordinately  hungry,  making  me  think,  while  I  wondered, 
how  that  no  matter  if  our  minds  soar  aloft  to  grasp  the 
boundaries  of  the  ethereal  or  glide  along  the  bosom  of 
lovely  nature,  admiring  the  admirable  "  masterworh  "  of  "a 
Divine  hand,  our  stomach,  like  most  of  our  prayers, 
brings  us  back  to  the  homely  realm  of  skimmed  milk  and 
turnip  salad,  happy  in  our  supplications  if  niekles  are 
bountiful  enough  (in  our  house)  to  defray  the  expense  of 
the  meagre  repast. 

I  must  conclude  this  view  of  the  subject  at  present ; 
but  cannot,  without  first  thanking  something  or  some- 
body (if  I  know  not  what  or  who  I  hope  it  won't  be 
"  reckoned  against  me,"  as  I  am  thanking  at  something 


io8  Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  Way. 

or  J'  somebody  nevertheless'''')  divine  or  lmm  an,  for  the 
slight  knowledge  (?)  that  the  Western  Hemisphere  has 
given — by  the  study  of  its  progressive  teachings  and  itself 
also — that  there  are  more  "  wondrous  things  (secret  now, 
but  divulged  in  future)  in  heaven  and  earth  than  were 
ever  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy." 

P.  S. — If  there  "lives  a  man  with  soul  so  dead,  that  never 
to  himself  hath  said,  this  is  mine  own,  my  native  land  "  (no 
matter  if  it  is  rendered  corrupt  by  political  trickery,  and 
monopolizing  dishonesty — if  he  were  only  born  here), 
he  ought  to  be  made  to  "  climb  a  greased  hickory,"  heels 
foremost,  and  nose  to  the  front — .or  kiss  a  sour-looking, 
lean,  lanky,  blear-eyed  hag  of  "  sum  "  TO  eventful  "  sum- 
mer complaints  " — pick  gooseberries  by  the  quart  for  a 
cent  to  the  "  pint  a  minute,"  on  a  wager  of  a  "  big  sum," 
and  lose  the  sum — strive  to  drive  "sum"  education  into  the 
"  weak  head  "  of  some  small-brained,  big-limbed,  20- 
year-old  youth  of  neatly  parted  hair  and  downy  upper- 
lip — nor  never  to  feel  the  kindness  of  a  mild-visaged 
warm-hearted  grandmother  (that's  perhaps  "gone  on 
before  "  to  a  "  better  land  "  than  he  will  ever  wander 
around  in  until  well-reorganized  by  nature's  purifying 
crucible,  adversity). 

]ST.  B. — I'm  inclined  to  suppose  that  this  western 
travelling  knocks  the  conceit  out  of  a  man  about  as  effect- 
ually and  naturally  as  does  the  fall  from  off  some  peach- 
tree  limb  render  its  "  visits  short "  unto  a  youth  that  hath 
aspired  to  the  age  of  "  sum  "  dozen  equinoctial  storm. 

The  above  remark  don't  apply  to  those  persons  who 
are  all  conceit,  and  who,  consequently,  can't  lose  that 
quality  until  some  lonely  grave  in  the  cypress  swamps 
swallows  him  up — then  I  pity  the  swamps. 


"  HOMEWARD  THE  PLOWMAN 
PLODS  HIS  WEARY  WAY;  AND 
LEAVES  THE  WORLD  TO  DARK- 
NESS   AND    TO    ME." 


I  don't  know  as  I  would  "  devoutly  pray  "  for  either 
the  position  of  the  plowman  (or  the  me)  in  the  above 
quotation,  if  the  sentiment  expressed  therein  be  true — 
as  to  their  condition — in  this  (or  any  other)  case. 

I  don't  know  as  I'd  "  make  any  objections  "  to  trav- 
elling homeward — sometimes  I'm  much  of  the  opin- 
ion that  I  wouldn't — but  this  "plodding  "  homeward  as 
a  weary  plowman  I  don't  believe  I  "hanker  arter,"  any 
more  than  a  spoilt  child  does  for  "  sum "  extract  of 
birch ;  or  than  a  rag-picker  does  for  "  sum  "  carcass  of 
dead  dog ;  or  than  a  worn-out  book-keeper  does  for  a 
"  kussing." 

I  don't  mind  being  "  left  alone''  by  the  world  to  med- 
itate, in  silence,  on  my  many  errors  and  the  emptiness 
of  my  stomach,  but  to  be  left  with  the  world,  in  dark- 
ness, to  ponder  together  on  the  "  greatness  of  some"  and 
the  folly  of  myself  s  hatching,  is  "  most  too  much  "  for 
my  present  philosophy. 

(I  may  get  to  that  sublime  "pitch  "  "  arter  awhile,"  but 
as  yet  I  need  some  "reconstruction  ''  on  that  point — to 
"  make  me  stick."  )     What  /  "know  about  farming,"  if 


no  "  Homctvard  the  Ploivman 

writ  into  a  very  small  book,  wouldn't — if  sold  to  some  "  en- 
terprising publisher  " — "  fetch  "  mare  than  enough  to  buy 
slab  boards  to  "  kiver  "  a  dilapidated,  small-sized  chicken- 
coop  with — not  as  I  view  it  (the  sale  of  the  book,  I  mean). 

What  I  know  "  about  plowing  "  (if  stated  succinctly) 
wouldn't  likely  more  than  achieve  the  grand  (?)  result 
of  a  "limited  notice"  from  a  narrow-browed,  near-sight- 
ed, blear-eyed  editor  of  a  weakly  newspaper. 

(I  tried  this  last,  once;  and  from  the  " respectful  dec- 
lination'' I  knew  (t)  he  had  "culled  the  best  Jlowers" 
for  his  own  use,  and  drapped  the  remainder  of  the 
"  butiful  beau-key  "*  into  that  usually  worthy  receptacle 
(of  his  own  writings)  the  "  waste-basket.") 

Plowing,  at  a  distance,  is  such  graceful  work,  and  so 
exhilarating.  To  view  (from  a  car-window)  the  placid 
strides  of  an  ambitious  plowman,  as,  whistling  to  the 
gentle  zephyrs  to  fan  his  smiling  brow,  he  bendeth 
above  the  curved  handles,  directing  the  motion  of  the 
beam  and  the  course  of  his  "  ani-mule  "  across  the  pleas- 
ant (?)  stretch  of  unshaded  acres,  is  very  "  entertaining  " 
to  an  observing  mind. 

He  is  the  Atlas — or  the  he  "  at  last " — upon  whose 
shoulders  the  world  is  (to  be)  carried  around  on.  And 
as  he  momentarily  calls  a  halt  of  his  jaded  team,  to  ad- 
mire the  "passing  of  the  train  "  (as  to  himself,  and  the 
ten ii  also,  maybe)  he  looks  every  inch  a  Roman,  or  hoe- 
man  ("  hoeing  his  own  row,"  or  rowing  his  own  hoe), 
and  seems,  by  his  benign,  magnanimous  smile  (at  a  "little 
black  bottle"),  to  say  as  much  for  himself. 

This  making  (?)  grain  (to  fill  the  barns  for  the  conso* 
lotion  of  those  "poor  deluded  mortals,"  as  don't  "know 

*  Jonas  ou  a  "  tantrum,"  spelling  bouquet— beau-key.— (iStZ.) 


Plods  his  Weary  Way"  1 1 1 

anything  about  handling  a  plow,"  or  growing  rutabagas, 
long  stalk  "collerds,"  apple-dumpling,  or  fresh  butter), 
by  "  turning  the  dirt  over,"  is  very  benevolent  (?)  work ; 
but  I  can't  say,  since  Tom  Porke  got  his  "jaw  broke" 
by  the  kicking  of  an  ungrateful  handle  of  a  deceitful 
plow,  that  I  am  much  on  that  kind  of  benevolence.  This 
turning  over  of  a  "  lump  of  dirt''''  for  the  "mutual  ben- 
efit" of  the  present  and  future  generations  is  of  a  very 
ancient  date,  and  if  Adam's  mother  didn't  "turn  him 
over  "  occasionally,  why,  Eve  must  have  "  set  the  worthy 
example,"  as,  not  long  after  her  "  sudden  demise  and  re- 
spectable burial,"  her  posterity  went  at  the  "  turn  over  " 
business  "  with  a  vim." 

It's  not  certain,  tho',  at  this  late  period,  whether  the 
crop  of  "  rutabagas  "  was  as  good  as  it  are  now-a-days,  or 
not,  but  it  is  to  be  presumed  as  it  were,  or  else  why  such 
long-lived  sons  and  beauteous  daughters  in  those  days. 

I  have  often  thought  that  the  only  probable  failing 
that  Adam's  mother  had,  was  that  she  didn't  "  turn  him 
over "  often,  athwart  her  lap ;  and  that  it  are  likely,  if 
she  had  tended  that  oranch  of  "her  business"  a  little 
hit  better,  so  many  winter-apples  "  wouldn't  have  got 
bit"  (by  Adam  or  the  frost)  during  that  memorable 
"  winter  of  our  discontent."  I,  even  noio,  sometimes, 
are  in  favor  of  woman's  rights,  so  far,  at  least,  as  to  help 
about  the  "turn-it- over"  business,  and  that  while  the 
men  "  turn  over  the  soil,"  the  women  might  "  turn 
over"  the  apples  and  little  children. 

(But  they  should  not  have  for  their  motto  "  suffer 
little  children  that  come  unto  me  ; "  for  an  often  whip- 
ping, like  too  much  apple  "turn  over,"  ain't  neither  good 
for  the  stomach  nor  the  conscience.)     "  A  little  "  spank- 


112  "Homeward  the  Plowman 

ing  "now  and  then,  is  relished  by  the  best  of  men  " — for 

other  people  ;  or,  after  they've  almost  grown  out  of  the 
happy  effects  of  it,  for  themselves. 

We,  generally,  all  of  ns,  like  spanking  and  nonsense, 
at  our  expense,  more  after  awhile  than  "  right  at  the 
time  "  of  the  perpetration  of  the  practical  joke. 

Ever  since  my  mother  first  taught  me  the  mysteries  of 
the  "  turn  him  over  "  business,  with  a  gentle  smile  (as  if 
it  were  as  pleasant,  as  a  joke,  as  eating  of  some  fried 
chicken  to  the  taste)  on  her  lips,  and  a  little  "  switch  " 
in  her  t'other  hand  that  she  didn't  hold  me  with,  I  have 
been  a  great  deal  less  familiar  with  or  cognizant  of  the 
beauties  of  practical  joking. 

For,  after  being  given  (muchly)  a  gentle  "sprouting" 
by  the  aid  of  that  hand  "  that  she  didn't  hold  me  with," 
(for  she  held  me  with  the  one  that  she  didn't  hold  the 
switch  with)  I  was  satisfied  that  there  might  be  "  some- 
thing joky  "  for  me  in  the  eating  of  fried  chicken,  but 
that  I  should  never  have  much  taste  for  the  "turn-it- 
over"  or  "  switch-tending  "  branches  of  business.  Jok- 
ing, like  plowing,  may  do  pretty  well  in  theory  for  your 
uncle's  " whilom"  practice,  but  practically  speaking, 
they  ain't  neither  of  them  much,  according  tomy  theory, 
for  pleasant  pastime-ing  of  it.  Formerly — before  I'd 
observed  anything  but  the  time  of  day,  and  that  only  to 
observe  if  the  "  barometer  of  my  stomach  "  were  correct 
as  to  its  "  indications,"  or  unasked  advice  about  dining 
(and  I  would  here  re-?nark,  that  stomach  advice,  whether 
asked  for  or  not,  is  bound  to  be  followed,  firstly  or 
lastly,  by  all  of  us — whether  there  are  "  any  much " 
hard-tack  to  supply  the  demand,  or  not —  whether  you 
can  succeed  in  your  attempts  to  "  still  the  silent  moni- 


Plods  his  Weary  Way.  1 1 3 

tor "  by  an  appeal  to  an  "  empty  purse,"  or  not — even 
if  you  have  to  "  make  a  foray  "  on  a  "  well-stripped 
turnip-patch,") — I  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
next  best  thing  to  a  "house  in  town"  (with  "money  to 
lend  at  20  per  cent,  per  annum,"  on  mortgage),  would 
be  a  "distant  farm-house"  in  a  "fragrant  wood." 
There' d  be  no  skimmed  milk  nor  worm-eaten  ham  there 
to  "  justify,"  but  with  my  genial  thoughts  I'd  be  left  (to 
"  myself  like  ")  to  listen  to  the  mellifluous  songs  of  the 
whip-poor-will,  or  the  soul-inspiring  chirp  of  the  grass- 
hopper, as  I  wandered  along  the  banks  of  warbling 
brooks,  and  to  chant  inspired  ditties  to  the  air  of  "  I  am 
going  away  to  leave  you,"  etc* 

Since  (however  ?)  the  railroads  have  become  the 
thing,  and  /  "  a  railroad  (?)  man,"  and  these  "  railroad 
contractors "  give  the  "go-by"  (of  "magnificent  dis- 
tance ")  to  the  "  rural  farm-house,"  I  must  say  that  I 
ain't  "so  much  a  farmer,"  even  "  in  theory,"  as  "I  used 
to  was."  I  think,  now,  that  I  shall  go  into  the  corner- 
grocery  business,  or  calico-tearing  profession,  in  some 
small  village  that  these  railroads  seem  always  to  "  man- 
age to  strike." 

[Whether  there  are  in  it  "  much  profit"  to  either  the 
mental  or  financial  portion  of  man's  "  disposition  for 
acquiring"  we  may  live  to  learn  ;  but, from  the  number 
of  well-dressed  youth  that  stand  around  where  they  sand 
sugar  and  rend  '''•poor  cloth,"  'twould  seem  that  {not) 
much  profit — ultimate,  at  least-— would  be  procurable 
there.'] 

I  have  always  watched,  with  considerable  interest,  the 

*  Jonas  seems  to  get  his  adjectives  and  ideas  mixed.  Who 
knows  ?— (Ed.) 


1 14  "Homeward  the  Ploivman  Plods  his  Weary  Way.1* 

way  by  which  railroads  shun  the  "  rude  cottage,"  and  at 
the  same  time  "hit"  small  towns  to  a  nicety  that  is 
quite  astonishing.  I  am  prepared  to  swear  that  it  is  also 
extremely  disgusting  to  those  curiosity-loving,  bond- 
voting  denizens  of  the  rural  districts — in  which  I  have 
been  invited  to  drink  "  stale  ale." 

(The  why  of  this  1  have  not  yet  been  able  to  "  dis- 
Mver.") 

P.  S. — I  don't  as  yet  know  whether  corner-grocerying 
(or  selling  stale  butter)  are  any  "profitabler"  business 
than  the  driving  to  town  (of  an  early  dawn)  with  "fresh 
eggs "  and  fresh-Z<m£  butter,  and  giving  them  away  at 
the  rate  of  "  sum  "  nickles  per  pound  and  dozen. 

This  method  of  "  giving  away  "  "  fresh  butter  " — so  as 
not  to  lose  anything — partakes  so  much  of  benevolence 
that  I  may  (for  the  glory  of  the  thing,  you  know)  stick  at 
that  a  little  while  longer. 

"  I'll  ask  Sally  Jane  " — my  "  vade  mecum  " — and  "  see 
what  she  says  about  it." 

N.  B. — This  world  am  a  general  wholesale  "  turn  over  " 
machine — money  at  the  top  one  minute,  brains  next,  and 
then  a  general  mixing  of  money  and  brain,  and  then  no 
brains. 


"  SYMPATHY-THE    TEAE    THAT 
ANGELS    SHED." 


Do  I  believe  it  ?  "Wall,  I  reckin  so.  In  other  words, 
I  guess  I  come  about  as  near  to  believing  it  as  I've  made 
up  (?)  my  mind  to  believe  as  to  the  truth  of  anything 
that  is  not  positively  proven  as  having  been  thoroughly 
masticated  and  throughly  digested — such  as  apple- 
dumpling,  fried  onions,  "  biled "  cabbage  (?),  tomato 
catsup,  castor  "ile,"  "Limburger  kase,"  old  rye  and 
honey — by  scientific  men.  If  this  sentiment  be  true  it 
seems  to  account  for  the  small  quantity  (and  "  feeble " 
quality)  of  some  tears  shed  by  pitying  angels  here,  and 
the  small,  disconsolate  (?)  number  of  "  angels  here  below," 
to  shed  tears;— for  the  quantity  of  sympathy  that  I  have 
been  accustomed  to  see  shed  in  that  part  of  the  "  moral 
vineyard,"  so-called,  that  I  seem  (to  want)  to  think  that  I 
still  breathe  in,  ain't  more  than  enough  to  stock  a  good- 
sized,  dried  musquito's  pelt  with. 

Sympathy  was  always  a  word  that  to  me  seemed 
luminous  of  a  "good  time  coming" — why  for  I  really 
didn't  know.  True  sympathy  somewhat  resembles  true 
symphony — for  nature  seems  to  be  shedding  and  diffus- 
ing whatever  there  is  being  shed  or  diffused  of  either  of 
them. 

The  sjmipathetic  man  is  (like  unto  a  butterfly)  only 


1 1 6      "  Sympathy — the  Tear  that  Angels  SJiedT 

admired  muchly  when  (you  imagine — do  you?)  you  can 
see  his  wings  :  his  tears,  like  nature's  dews,  are  shed  only 
for  you  (you  imagine)  when  they  drop  on  your  brow,  or 
your  grass-plat. 

He  is  as  warm-hearted  as  a  !No.  7  cooking-stove  in  full 
blast,  and  you  can,  if  needed,  procure  baked  bread  from 
him  just  as  easily;  Tie  is  as  full  of  generous  action  as  a 
dinner  (or  diner)  off  of  plum-pudding  and  turkey,  port- 
wine  sangaree  and  mashed  potatoes ;  he  is  as  mild-man- 
nered as  "  Mary's  little  lamb,"  and  as  forgiving  as  a 
grandmother  of  the  faults  of  the  spoilt  children  of  her 
"  wayward  son  :  "  he  is  as  void  of  vanity  as  a  well-regu- 
lated steam-engine — doing  much  work  without  much 
blow  :  he  is  as  prompt  to  fulfill  promises  as  a  poor  cler- 
gyman on  half  pay  :  he  is  as  regular  in  his  habits  as  an 
old-fashioned  8  day  clock,  or  an  old  soldier  when  "  beat 
to  arms : "  he  is  as  polite  as  a  Sunday-school  mistress, 
and  as  politic  as  no  politician  (that  ./know  of) :  he  is  as 
beneficent  as  a  June  rain,  or  the  smell  of  some  sweet 
flowers,  or  the  will  of  some  deceased  favorite  bachelor 
uncle.  He  is  as  untiring  for  good  as  a  wise  hen  in  sup- 
plying the  wants  of  her  hungry  chick:  as  full  of  charity 
as  an  intelligent,  high-minded  free-thinker,  or  a  poor 
widow :  as  desirous  of  the  happiness  of  others  as  a  well- 
organized  committee  at  a  4-th  July  picnic :  as  far  from 
covetousness  free  as'  a  town-clock — which  is  always 
"making  time"  for  others,  but  never  resting  itself:  as 
pleased  at  the  happiness  of  others  as — well!  as  if  it  were 
himself  (and  more  so)  :  as  true  to  the  right  as  a  needle, 
to  the  "pole:"  as  chivalrous  in  defeating  wrong  as  a 
Joan  of  Arc,  or  an  Emmet  (not  those  who  Emmet-ale)  : 
as  careless  of  the  frowns  of  others  as  a  badly-milked  cow 


"  Sympathy — the  Tear  that  Angels  Shed"       117 

over  a  bucket  of  spilt  milk :  as  innocent  of  wrong  him- 
self as  a  sister  of  "  charity." 

In  tact  I  have  been  able  to  find  but  few  very  sym- 
pathetic men  in  all  my  many  travels — but  few  that 
would  help  a  man  in  his  trav-ails — but  if  there  are  one  to 
any  one  country,  in  any  one  generation,  that  country  and 
generation  are  blessed. 

If  I  had  one  such  as  my  friend,  I  would  deem  myself 
richer  than  if  I  had  all  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  in  one 
little  handy  lump  in  my  vest-pocket,  or  to  be  lordly  pro- 
prietor of  all  the  peanut-stands  and  merchandise  shops  in 
Christendom..  Its  so!  I  golly. 

I  am  not  one  of  those  that's  expecting  much — tho'  I 
sometimes  think  I  am  waiting  for  a  good  deal — and 
thereby  don't  get  beat  by  disappointment  badly  in  this 
life  ;  and  hence,  if  I  do  ever  find  one  of  this  kind  of  men 
again,  I  shall  be  undoubtedly  thankful,  and  very  much 
happier — happier,  if  anything,  because  I  don't  much  ex- 
pect to. 

There  is  one  thing  certain — and  maybe  it'll  be  an  in- 
ducement (?)  for  the  sympathetic  man  to  show  his  face — 
that  whenever  I  do  find  one  of  those  men  that  do  grab 
your  hand  with  some  little  earnestness,  entering  into 
your  troubles  with  you,  like  as  unto  a  good  preacher,  and 
scattering  them  to  the  wind  like  Jamaica  ginger  doth 
cramp-colic,  rejoicing  that  he  has  found  a  man,  I  am 
apt  to  believe  that  I  shall  heart  and  hand  welcome  him 
to  my  porridge-pot  and  my  mashed  potatoes,  without 
question  as  to  his  former  diet  or  the  way  he  disposed 
of  it  (but  if  he  wants  to  tell  me,  Pll  gladly  listen). 
There  are  tears  of  joy,  tares  of  wheat,  tears  of  soitcav, 
tares  of  breeches,  tears  of  sanity,  tares  of  madness,  but 


1 1 8      "  Sympathy — the  Tear  that  Angels  Shed." 

the  "  tear  of  sympathy "  is  the  only  tear  (or  tare)  that 
I  ara  much,  at  these  present  writing,  in  want  of,  as  I 
know  on. 

The  market  for  all  other  kind  is  overdone  with  much 
supply  of — but  for  the  tears  be-shed  by  pitying  angel 
there  is  a  hungry  demand  for  by  myself,  if  not  by  others. 

(Ordinary  pity  I  don't  hanker  for,  but  the  pity  of  a 
sympathetic   angel   is   worth   more   than  the  ordinary 
sympathy  we  hear  so  much  boast  of.) 

I  imagine  sometimes,  that,  as  to  myself,  I  would  wish 
no  greater  honor  than  to  be  sincerely  called  a  "  truly 
sympathetic  man "  (wings  not  necessary) ;  but  it  is  as 
far  above  my  present  anticipations  as  a  well-arranged 
trip  to  the  skies  in  the  style  of  the  Elijah  of  old.  I've 
noticed  "  sum  folks  "  who  bemoan  the  griev-ances  of  the 
poor  man  in  their  employ,  and  still  try  to  kill  him  by 
poor  pay  and  big  work ;  I  have  known  them  to  chant 
the  praises  of  their  preacher  (to  the  pastor  or  his  friends) 
and  then  go  right  off  to  a  vestry-meeting  to  vote  down 
his  salary  and  talk  at  his  extravagance  or  want  of  zeal ; 
I  have  noticed  them  as  speaking  loudly  to  some  of  the 
worth  of  their  office  help,  but  to  others  proclaim  him  as 
a  "  good  book-keeper,  and  that's  all  there  is  of  him  " — 
thus  destroying  by  seeming  generosity  (?)  his  means  of 
obtaining  a  support,  as  they  suppose  :  I  have  known 
them  to  be  very  eager  for  obtaining  the  influence  accru- 
ing (?)  from  association  with  an  Evangelist,  and  yet  snub 
the  hackman,  whom  he  owes  for  the  seat  with  his 
"saint"  in  the  evening  ride  to  see  the  "beauties  of  the 
town;"  I  have  known  them  to  invest  in  "church  proper- 
ty" to  (de) moralize  the  world,  and  at  tlie  same  time  to 
" have  and  to  hold "  property  that's  " untaxed" 


"  Sympathy — the  Tear  that  Angels  Shed."      1 19 

These  so-called  sympathetic  men  are  as  numerous  of 
number  as  flies  of  a  rainy  day,  and  just  as  "  eminently  " 
entertaining  and  usefully  necessary.  They  can  talk 
more  with  their  mouth,  and  speak  less  with  heart  and 
hand,  than  'twould  be  supposed  would  be  possible  for 
such  "  note-head  "  characters. 

The  world  at  large  may  fancy  them,  but  I  don't  want 
any  in  mine.  I  take  mine  straight  unless  I  can  get 
"  clear  honey,"  for  this  "  sugar  sympathy  "  is  "  most  all 
sand  "  and  craw-fish  sand  at  that. 

I've  often  wondered  if  a  plentiful  supply  of  generous 
sympathy  would  be  in  demand  amongst  "  sum  folks," 
and  at  last  accounts  I  have  concluded  that  it  would'nt — 
most  of  that  class  preferring  the  counterfeit  kind  the 
most. 

The  counterfeit  specimen  makes  less  demand  on  their 
own  consciences,  and  more  demand  on  other  2>eoj)lds 
pocket-books,  and  hence  their  "  hanker  "  arter  it.  The 
real  article  demands  more  from  their  own  conscience  and 
less  (or  none  at  all)  from  other's  pockets — hence  they 
"  donH  want  any  of  it." 

True  sympathy  feeds  more  poor  than  it  builds  (or 
prays  for)  poor-houses ;  corrects  by  kindness  more 
"  erring "  than  it  sends  to  the  house  of  correction ; 
believes  more  in  practising  than  preaching ;  sticks  more 
to  humor  and  substantial  diet  than  it  does  to  preaching- 
long  homilies  (on  a  future  life)  and  kaster  ile. 

True  sympathy  is  a  tear,  that,  as  a  key,  unlocks  the 
heart  of  the  forlorn  man  ;  and  when  shed  in  copious 
showers,  is  the  rain  that  waters  the  plant,  that  gives  the 
grain,  that  feeds  the  kine  (kind),  that  gives  good  eroj>s  of 
the  milk  of  human  kindness. 


120      "  Sympathy — the  Tear  that  Angels  Shed." 

Sjrmpathy  has,  metaphorically  speaking,  no  immediate 
connection  in  this  world,  unless  it  be  charity  and  the 
milk  of  human  kindness;  and, "after  looking  around  a 
little,"  one  would  be  likely  to  suppose  (?)  that  "  both  of 
them  were  dead."  Some  say  "  sympathy  is  akin  to  pity," 
and  "  pity  akin  to  love  ; "  but  if  so,  I  don't  sympathize 
with  that  sympathy  or  love ;  but  I  do  regret  that  it 
should  even  be  thought  that  it  ever  hath  such  associa- 
tions. 

I  have  known  men  to  pity  me  very  much,  but  they 
didn't  sympathize  worth  a  cent.  I  seem  to  have  known 
pity  to  kill  men,  but  sympathy  never.  That  kind 
of  sympathy  ain't  any  better  medicine  than  too  much 
quinine.  It  is  bitter  to  the  taste,  nauseating  to  the 
stomach,  and  ends  in  death. 

I  am  more  for  true  sympathy  (angels'  tears)  than  I 
seem  to  think  I  are  for  pity  (the  rheum  from  sick  sin- 
ners' eyes) ;  as  I  am  more  for  a  generous  meal  of  biscuit, 
butter,  tea,  pork-steak,  and  apple-dumpling  than  I  am 
to  hear  their  beauties  discoursed  on  by  others. 

Pity  is  like  Lim burger  kase  ;  it  smells  loud,  but  don't 
do  to  feed  young  Simpkins  on. 

P.  S. — I  want  "  sum  "  sympathy, 
Who  has  it  to  give  ? 
"  I'll  love  and  dote  on  him 
As  long  as  I  live." 

I  want  "  sum  "  sympathy ; 
"  Who  has  it  to  lend  ?  " 
"  Tell  me  where  I  can  bony. 
And  I'll  straightaway  send." 

I  want  "  sum  "  sympathy; 
Who  has  it  for  sale  ? 


"  Sympathy — the  Tear  that  Angels  Shed."       121 

I  want  pure  old  rye, 
But  I  need  no  stale  ale. 

But  I  am  really  afraid  to  on  any  depend, 
For  either  the  sale,  the  gift,  or  the  lend. 

K.B. — From  the  sympathetic  man  doth  flow  words 
and  deeds  of  charity,  as  naturally  and  unconsciously  as 
sweat  from  the  brow  of  a  laborer  or  humor  from  the 
heart  of  a  Billings. 


"TEETOTAL  ABSTINENCE." 


Notwithstanding  that  saying  of  their  brother  Paul's, 
to  "  take  a  little  wine  for  thy  stomach's  sake,  and  thine 
often  infirmities,"  "  pie-us  "  mendicants  have  for  a  series 
of  years  been  descanting  of  teetotal  abstinence  as  to 
others — but  plenty  of  rich  diet  and  strong  beer  (?)  as  to 
themselves. 

They  either  intend  to  sanction  Paid  only  as  far  as  his 
sayings  suit  them  (whether  those  sayings  be  inspired  or 
not),  or  else  they  don't  intend  that  others  shall  partake  of 
only  so  much  inspired  diet  as  they  may  wish  to  "  dish  out 
to  them."  If  "  teetotal  abstainers"  would  practice  in  the 
abstaining  from  "  krout "  and  cant,  raw  turnips  and 
sycophancy,  dried  apples  and  envy,  stale  ale  and  ill— 
naturedness,  lobster-salad  and  gluttony,  spice  cordials 
and  adultery,  hash  and  deceit,  then  they  might,  with 
more  success  and  greater  truthfulness,  attempt  to  preach 
against  the  follies  of  mankind  in  drinking  "  sum  "  rum 
or  chewing  "  sum  "  tobacco. 

I  have  had  men  to  attempt  to  argue  with  me  as  to  the 
"  ill-effects  "  of  "  sum  "  drinking  (which  I  didn't  do) 
when  you  could  smell  the  bitters  (?)  on  their  breath  ; 
and  descant  upon  the  "  ill-effects"  of  sum  smoking  (which 
I  did  do)  when  the  saliva,  from  some  quid  of  tobacco, 
(which  they  were   steadfastly  sucking  between  tongue 


"  Teetotal  Abstinence."  123 

and  teetli)  were  flowing  stealthily  out  of  their  begrimed 
mouth.  They  always  remind  me  of  the  "spider  and 
fly"  case,  in  the  eager  persuasiveness  with  which  they 
attempt  to  show  that  its  benefits  to  others,  not  their  own 
glory  (?),  they  are  desirous  of  securing. 

(Even  if  I  were  no  smoker,  my  disgust  for  the  man 
would  overbalance  my  aversion  to  the  tobacco.) 

The  teetotal  abstinence  theory  is  a  pretty  good  thing 
for  a  decrepid  old  man's  hobby  horse  (that  is,  if  the  old 
man  were  pious  and  verged  onto  the  good  old  age  of  199 
years) ;  but  for  middle-aged  men  and  youths,  I  fear,  as 
present  taught,  it  won't  do.  I  am  afraid  to  think  of  the 
ills  they  will  be  forced  (or  they  will  force  themselves, 
rather)  to  undergo  from  the  results  of  "  sum  "  struggle 
for  ("too  much  ")  undiluted  apple  cider  (?).  I  have,  in 
the  course  of  "  sum  "  observations,  been  led  to  discover 
that  things  were  not  always,  and  under  all  circumstances, 
just  as  these  abstainers  would  make  them  out  to  be.  To 
illustrate  :  An  abstainer,  "  hungry  for  a  drink,"  having 
been  admonished  to  flee  the  flowing  bowl,  thought  he'd 
experiment  chemically  and  mechanically  with  "  sum  " 
grapes,  and  so  procured  "  sum  "  half  gallon  of  grapes, 
devoured  them,  drank  copious  draughts  of  "  water  on 
the  top  of  them,  "  and  awaited  the  action  of  the  stomach's 
machinery  in  causing  such  a  fermentation  of  the  chemi- 
cal properties  of  his  late  feast  as  would  produce  wine.  I 
am  prepared  to  state  that  that  abstainer  may  have 
evaded  the  Maine  Liquor  Law,  but  he  didn't  evade 
death.  He  died  slowly  and  sorrowfully,  yet  surely.  He 
may  be  a  chemist  in  "  paradise,"  but,if  he  is,  I  trust  he'll 
be  more  successful,  "nor  he  was"  here,  hi  securing  some 
good  liquor.     A  tobacco  abstainer  that  I  knew  of  quit 


124  "  Teetotal  Abstinence '." 

tobacco    once    and    went    to    chewing    pea-nuts    and 
candy. 

To  secure  him  from  the  ill  effects  of  nausea  and  sick- 
headache,  produced  by  nuts  and  sweet  sugar,  he  had  to 
return  to  tobacco  again.  If  he  ever  tries  "  quitting 
again  "  he'll  never  smoke  in  classic  halls  no  more,  nor 
discourse  on  the  bad  effects  of  smoking  to  himself  or 
others. 


"  VIKTUE  IS  ITS  0¥J^  EEWAED  " 


More  and  more  every  day  "  am  "  your  Uncle  Jonas 
inclined  to  believe  the  truth  of  the  saying  as  hereinbe- 
fore quoted  :  for,  if  not  true,  much  small  slice  of  reward 
will  it  be  likely  to  be  the  modest  recipient  of  from  the 
"  quarter  "  squeezers  of  this  generation. 

There  are  always  "  two  sides  to  eveiy  question,"  so 
the  doctors  say.  [I  know  there  is  one,  that's  the  blind 
side.  We  may  be  on  that  side  or  we  may  be  on  the 
other,  so-called  side ;  we  may,  if  not  on  the  blind  side, 
try  to  "  get  around  to  the  blind  side  ; "  we  may,  if  "  on 
the  blind  side,"  attempt,  fram  that  fact,  to  worry  our 
way  through  to  any  other  side  (if  there  be  any)  that  we 
may  wish  to  be  on  ;  but  whether  there  be  one  side  or 
two  sides,  three  sides  or  four  sides,  six  sides  or  a  blind 
side,  I  have  always  seemed  to  notice  that  it  are  very  dif- 
ficult for  most  of  folks  to  stand  on  but  one  side  at  once, 
whether  the  side  of  a  political  "  pale-fence "  or  the 
"  tough  dogwood-rail  fence  "  of  public  opinion.  One  is 
not  always  likely  to  be  happy,  or  successful,  by  "being 
(Hi  the  blind  side  "  of  any  animal,  place,  or  thing,  espe- 
cially as  to  the  animal.  An  acquaintance  of  mine  once 
attempted  to  argue  (from  her  blind  side)  with  an  one- 
eyed  heifer  "  as  to  the  way  she  ought  to  take  and  the  gait 
she  should  travel."    That  heifer  went  so  nigh  towards 


126  "Virtue  is  its  Own  Reward." 

the  "  other  way •"'  as  she  could  guess  at,  causing  his  suc- 
cess (?)  to  be  marked  only  by  the  line  he  made  in  the  air 
in  trying  to  cut  a  figure  there,  as  urged  to  do  by  the 
heels  of  his  flying  heifer.] 

Virtue,  according  to  the  opinion  of  some,  means  valor- 
ous action  against  the  strong  in  behalf  of  the  innocent 
and  weak ;  but  according  to  others  it  signifies  kind 
thoughts,  kind  words,  kind  deeds.  Now  the  valorous 
action  of  Sim  Tryhard  in  attempting  to  drive  an  angry 
bull  out  of  Judge  Smuthe-face's  pasture,  of  five  acres  ex- 
tent, (as  per  the  order  of  the  judge's  wife) — to  the  detri- 
ment of  his  own  ribs  by  falling  in  ditches,  from  which  he 
crawled  out  again  only  to  be  "  elevated  "  by  the  imper- 
tinent action  of  the  horns  of  that  he  cow — seemed,  to  an 
outside  observer,  to  deserve  some  reward,  sure.  His 
"  visible  reward "  came  in  the  shape  of  threats,  (and 
pretty  soon)  for  just  as  he  had  fairly  got  that  raging 
bovine  out  of  that  pasture  the  judge  himself  rode  by,  sent 
his  hostler  to  "kick  Sim  Tryhard  out  of  that  pasture" 
He  also  remarked,  "  tell  him  to  be  easy,  or  I'll  sue  him 
for  trespass ! ! ! "  It  looks  now  if  Sim's  valor  would 
have  to  look  for  "  sum "  reward  where  judges  keep  no 
pastures,  and  mad  oxen  do  not  roam  abroad  much. 

Sim's  conscience  is  easy,  tho',  I  bet;  but,  as  to  the 
judge,  I'd  venture  a  dime  to  the  jingle  of  a  pewter-nickel 
that  his  "  conscience  don't  allow  him  any  rest  at  night ;" 
if  it  does,  darned  if  I  don't  pity  "his  offspring." 

(You  must  not  think  by  the  above  remark  that  I  en- 
courage betting,  for  altho'  I  may  often  write  "  bet,  "  yet 

I  never  speak  of  "  Bet "  to  other  people.)     The  "  widow 

I I  ;q>py's  "  kind  words,  thoughts  (for  her  thoughts  spake — 
her  face  was  such  a  frank  indicator  of  what  her  mind 


'■ Virtue  is  its  Own  Reward."  127 

perceived),  and  actions  were  the  well-known  and  joy- 
.ously  whispered  remark  of  the  poor  and  lowly  of  "  Squash 
Hollow ;  "  but  that  only  brought,  more  readily,  "  pie-us 
mendicants,"  "  clad  in  the  habiliments  of  churchly  sanc- 
tity," to  devour  what  corn-dodger  and  snaps  the  chari- 
table widow  "  might  have  left "  (for  her  morning's  meal) 
from  her  last  gifts  to  the  poor.  With  some,  this  dis- 
bursement of  virtue  would  seem  to  merit  some  reward  ; 
but  the  visible  portion  of  it  was  the  sneer  of  that  sancti- 
monious "  pup  "  at  the  widow's  fare — the  besmearing  her 
with  pious  (?)  anathemas  because  she  didn't  attend  his 
church  regularly  —  a  lavish  display  of  ill-begotten 
"  lingo  "  in  abusing  her  want  of  support  of  the  "  tract 
society."  The  reward  of  her  poor  neighbor's  prayers 
and  joyful  tears,  unaccompanied  by  jingling  (?)  pewter, 
was,  I'll  wager,  more  satisfactory  to  her  than  any  reward 
the  church  could  bestow,  and  out-balanced  all  the  bless- 
ed (?)  curses  of  this  apostle. 

(I  have  about  gotten  so,  that  when  I  notice  people  re- 
ceiving any  "  visible  reward,"  I  am  not  much  in  a  hurry 
to  claim  their  worthy  (?)  acquaintance ;  and,  as  for  myself, 
I'd  much  rather  go  to  sleep  "  on  a  quiet  conscience  "  than 
on  a  stuffed  hair-mattress  with  "  sum  "  springs  under  it.) 

Nature  never,  or  rarely  ever,  rewards  virtue  (?)  but  in 
one  way,  and  that  generally  invisibly,  for  she  don't  wish 
to  trumpet  her  own  "  prompt  payment  of  just  debts," 
as  some  folks  do,  but  prefers  to  cancel  them  quietly. 
If  nature  ever  does  reward  any  one  visibly  "  it's  only  an 
exception  to  prove  the  rule,"  while  it  whispers  to  man- 
kind the  fact,  that,  with  her  own,  and  to  her  own,  she 
acts  as  "  she  thinks  best " — without  fear,  favor,  or  affec- 
tion, as  to  those  who  would  dictate  her  course. 


128  "Virtue  is  its  Own  Reward." 

]S\  B.  "  Most  of  folks,"  tho',  prefer  visible  reward 
"  to  "  silent  reward;  as  they  prefer  a  ride  visibly  in  a. 
coach  and  six,  to  taking  a  quiet  walk.  Hence,  I  am 
thinking,  floweth  the  cause  that  produces  the  effect  of 
there  being  no  virtue  as  abiding  in  the  hearts  of  most 
men — their  consciences  trouble  them  so,  that  they  seek 
by  outward  noise  to  quiet  the  inward  tumult. 


"THE     LABORER    IS    WORTHY    OF 
HIS    HIRE." 


All  nations  ! !  "from  way  hack  yonder  ;  "  all  the 
spheres  that  are  suspended  in  the  blue  vault  of  nature's 
banking  house ;  all  the  mighty  waves  of  storm-tossed 
oceans,  or  the  quiet  ripples  on  the  bosom  of  zephyr- 
fanned  lakelets ;  all  the  mighty  upheavals  of  whole  hemi- 
spheres, or  the  placid  grazings  of  an  ant  on  its  little 
hairbreadth  of  sand ;  all  the  extinguishings  of  monstrous 
fallacies,  or  the  intinitesimally  small  up-sprouting  of 
new  ideas ;  are  the  attestations  to  the  grand  truth  of ; 
"  Nature  compensates,"  and  testimonials  of  the  necessity 
of  keeping  before  men  the  fact  that  a  "Laborer  is 
worthy  of  his  hire  " — whether  it  be  that  his  work  is  to 
"  remove  mountains,"  or  "  tear  down  mole-hills."  Un- 
less this  great  fact  is  thoroughly  observed,  and  its  teach- 
ings hearkened  unto,  men  will  find  that  as  compensation 
is  certain,  so  retribution  is  equally  unfailing. 

Nature  compensates  by  restitution  unto  one  of  those 
things  which  another  one  has  deprived  him  of,  by  depriv- 
ing that  other  of  those  things  which  he  had  appropriated 
of  the  one's. 

What  is  restitution  for  some,  is  retribution  to  others ; 
and  that  restitution  and  retribution,  when  "  dealt  out  " 
by  nature,  is  as  mute,  }Tet  unalterable,  as  the  laws  of  her 


130  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire." 

God.  "  The  Son  of  Man  knowetli  not  whence  he  cometh." 
"  The  wind  bloweth  whither  it  listeth,  and  no  man  can 
tell  whither  it  cometh,  or  whither  it  goeth."  I  believe 
those  last  sentences  are  what  the  Book  (or  books)  says 
about  it,  but  if  I  don't  quote  exactly  right — and  as  I  quote 
from  memory  maybe  I  don't — why  just  step  and  ask 
your  preacher ;  but  whether  the  quotations  are  right  or 
wrong,  changes  not  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  "  compen- 
sation," or  "retribution,"  in  the  least.  There  is,  and  has 
been  in  "all  Time,"  a  running  fight  between  honest  labor 
backed  by  honest  capital,  and  dishonest  workers  shoved 
forward  by  dishonest  capital,  and  there  has  always  been 
an  under-handed  contention  carried  on  by  dishonest  cap- 
ital against  honest  capital,  and  its  co-operator,  honest 
labor.  Whether  the  right  has  always  triumphed  or  not, 
may  not  be  apparent ;  but  Jonas,  the  woodsawyer,  does 
continue  to  believe  that  it  hath,  doth,  and  will. 

(With  this  courageous  belief,  backed  up  by  the  power- 
ful evidences  of  the  past,  when  read  correctly,  we  take 
up  the  gauntlet  of  controversy ;  and  if  we  convince 
none  we  have  no  right  to  complain,  for  vie  try'd.) 

Then  to  the  point,  maybe. 

The  hypocritical  capitalist  is  very  ready  to  "  quote " 
this  very  old  saying,  but  is  as  apt  to  follow  the  precept  it 
contains  as  a  much-jaded  "  circuit-preacher  "  is  to  sneer 
at  a  dinner,  oif  of  "yaller-lcgged  chicken,"  which  his 
appreciative  brotherhood  have  diligently  exhorted  him  to 
partake  of.  They  follow  it  beautifully  {tlird'  a  horn,)  by 
hiring  one  man  on  meagre  pay  to  do  two  men's  work ; 
and  in  trying  to  convince  him  that  short  rations  are  bene- 
ficial to  health  ;  much  work,  a  driver  away  of  care ;  much 
baubles  and  trinkets  conducive  to  the  development  of  a 
love  of  artistic  beauty. 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."  131 

They  follow  it  beautifully,  and  to  a  symmetrical  nicety, 
as  to  the  magnificent  division  of  some  of  the  profits  with 
some  well-fed  starveling  (?)  of  a  relation,  who  hasn't 
brains  nor  muscle  enough  "  to  grease  a  (moderate  sized) 
gimlet  without  greasing  the  handle  " — it's  charity  and 
justice  combined  then.  But  to  some  intelligent,  duty- 
loving,  yet  truthful  laborer,  their  mind  don't  develop 
well  as  to  observing  the  necessity  of  a  little  better  dis- 
tribution of  pay,  or  wiser  division  of  labor — not  much 
worth  speaking  of,  does  that  mind  perceive,  that  heart 
warm  up,  that  pocket-book  open  for  this  kind  of  an  ar- 
rangement— "  it's  only  a  waste  of  fuel"  they  say,  in  this 
case. 

The  dis-honesb  capitalist  of  to-day  (as  of  all  past  time 
he  has  been)  are  as  "  sharp "  as  he  are  corrupt ;  but  if 
his  own  flesh  don't  get  "sliced"  by  "sum"  ill-regulated 
sharpness,  or  his  body  receive  some  slight  infection  of 
"  sum  "  bad  disease  begotten  of  "  sum "  (of  his  own) 
corruption,  why  then  Jonas  Simpkins  don't  know  any- 
thing about  wood-sawing,  that's  all.  (Dishonesty  con- 
sists no  more  of  stealing  than  it  doth  of  withholding.) 

They  are  "  sharp  "  in  employing  only  one  man  to  fill 
a  situation  that  ought  to  be  filled  by  3  or  4, — as,  thereby, 
the  over-worked  man  hasn't  the  time  to  hunt  up  other 
jobs,  even  if  he  could  get  them :  and  as  thereby  others 
are  thrown  on  the  market  (glutting  it)  to  try  for  situa- 
tions, and  "  therefore,  consequently,''''  to  bid  for  the  posi- 
tion "just filled?  They  are  "  sharp  "  in  knowing  that, 
if  3  or  4  impecunious  laborers— like  as  to  3  or  4  hun- 
gry frogs  after  one  lonely,  inconsiderate  fly — are  hang- 
ing around  after  one  lonely  "  position,"  the  "chances 
are,"  "  if  they  hire  any,"  that  they  can  obtain  them  at 


132  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire." 

a  salary  that  a  good  sized  mouse  can't  be  supported  on 
(without  "  appropriating  ") :  and  at  the  same  time  hold 
in  reserve  "sum"  badly-promised,  poorly-employed  youths 
(to  threaten  with)  in  case  of  the  over- work  making  the 
hired  one  desire  more  rest  or  more  pay,  or  both.  They 
are  "  sharp  "  in  knowing  (and  eager  as  to  the  wishing 
that)  their  employees  spend  their  diminutive  salary  in 
"  store  truck :  "  as  therein  they  see  the  probability  of 
their  hired  ones  still  being  dependent  on  them  for  em- 
ployment of  any  kind,  at  any  price. 

They  are  quick  to  give  (ill-meant)  advice  as  to  "  what 
to  do,"  but  too  "sharp"  to  inform  the  how,  when,  and 
where,  or  to  supply  the  means  of  following  it — espe- 
cially in  the  supplying  the  means. 

They  are  "  sharp  "  in  trying  to  convince  that  "  hon- 
esty are  the  best  policy  "  as  to  themselves  :  but  are  not 
anxious  to  instruct  in  the  way  of  right  as  to  justice  to 
others. 

They  are  "  sharp  "  in  preaching  upon  the  error  of  not 
hearkening  to,  or  abiding  by  their  advice ;  but  are  not 
anxious  that  you  should  be  led  astray  (?)  by  the  consola- 
tory suggestions  of  others. 

They  are  not  "  sharp  "  in  providing  good,  honest  work 
for  every  man  and  woman  at  good  pay, — as  thereby  they 
might  prevent  the  necessity  of  penitentiaries  and  poor- 
houses — for  the  people  would  then  want  to  work  (sure). 

They  can  quote  that  "  Work  is  man's  necessity  and 
man's  delight,"  (and,  "  to  give  the  d — Is  their  due," 
they  are  that  far  right)  but  they  don't  seem  to  under- 
stand, or  "  want  to  know,"  that  "  killing-work "  at 
"short  pay"  is  a  destroyer  and  perverter,  rather  than  a 
preserver  of  life,  property,  and  honor. 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."         133 

The  best  thing  that  Wendell  Phillips  ever  said  was, 
that  the  "  extra  dollar  paid  the  laborer  "  was  the  safe- 
guard of  American  liberty,  the  police  force  for  preserv- 
ing order,  the  true  protector  of  American  honor  and 
the  securer  of  a  proper  teacher  of  her  children  ;  or  in  his 
own  words :  "  It  ensures  progress  and  guarantees 
Astor's  millions  better  than  a  score  of  statutes — it  is 
worth  more  than  a  thousand  colleges,  and  makes  armies 
and  police  superfluous." 

They  are  "  corrupt "  as  to  the  manner  of  indirect 
thieving,  by  short  pay :  as  to  the  habit  of  indirect  mur- 
dering, by  over-work :  as  to  the  custom  of  indirect  ly- 
ing, by  using  intentionally '-ambiguous  phraseology  as 
to  your  worth  :  and  as  to  indirectly  breeding  the  pests 
of  moral  turpitude,  by  the  encouraging  of  the  "  genera- 
tion of  "  ill-restrained  ambition,  covetousness,  wish  for 
show,  carelessness  as  to  the  needs  of  the  future  if  the 
present  wants  be  but  supplied,  disregard  as  to  the  sus- 
taining of  self-respect  so  appetite  but  be  satiated,  igno- 
rance as  to  the  knoioledge  of  the  rights  of  umeum  and 
tuum"  (mine  and  thine),  knowledge  as  to  "how  to  ob- 
tain," at  any  cost,  money  from  others,  and  at  the  same 
time  screen  self  from  ptinishment. 

They  can  preach  about :  "  Do  unto  others  as  you 
would  have  others  do  unto  you,"  but  they  can't  seem  to 
learn  how  to  practice  it — jvorth  the  scent  of  a  dead 
muskrat.  Their  practicing  seems  to  extend  only  to  the 
"  doing  unto  others  as  they  expect  them  to  do  unto 
them  " — and  one  would  think  that  they  must  expect 
others  to  "  treat  them  darned  common."  If  they  keep 
on  practicing  as  they  do,  they  needn't  expect  otherwise — 
but  not  in  a  way  they  expect. 


134  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire." 

This  kind  of  folks — these  "  d-e-c-e-i-v-i-n-g  k-i-n-d  of 
f-o-l-k-s  " — could  no  more  tell  the  straight  up-and-down 
truth,  than  an  ignorant  youth  that's  just  commenced 
calico-cutting  could  rend  correctly  a  piece  of  poor  cloth, 
i.  e.,  without  tearing  it  in  a  wrong  direction.  This 
" k-i-n-d  of  f-o-l-k-s"  are  not  "educated  up  to  any- 
thing "  but  lying.  They  have  made  a  living  by  it  and 
cut  a  swell  by  it,  and  hence,  if  they  attempt  to  warble 
about  truth,  or  things  truthfully,  the  unaccustomed  diet 
either  sticks  in  their  throat — to  choke  them — or  they 
heave  it  up ;  and  afterwards  they'll  wash  down  the  bad 
effects  of  the  first  of  the  discourse  (by  closing  it  up)  with 
a  dose  of  lie.  These  k-i-n-d  of  f-o-l-k-s  are  just  as 
"  eager  "  on  the  trace  of  a  cent  as  an  o'erwise  game  dog 
might  be  when  it  strikes  an  ill-advised-of-a-scent  trail ; 
and  just  as  anxious  to  drop  it  when  there  seems  to  be  no 
rabbit  (rare-bit)  there.  Neither  of  these  kind  of  dogs 
like  to  come  in  contact  with  "  old  coons." 

This  preaching  (as  before  mentioned) — or  hiring  others 
to  preach  with  the  money  coaxed  from  befooled,  or  with- 
held from  the  needy — is  about  as  good  practicing  as  if 
Jonas  Simpkins,  when  hired  to  saw  cordwood,  were 
(instead)  to  besmear  some  negro  with  a  25c.  plaster  (for 
the  purpose  of  securing  his  valuable  services  in  going  to 
"  sum "  forks  of  roads  that  nobody  crosses  at),  to  be- 
smearingly  discourse  to  "  sum  "  roots  of  some  sow-wood 
tree  of  the  beauties  of  Jonas  Simpkins's  elbow-practice  in 
''dissecting"  of  cordwood. 

And  I  guess  that  kind  of  elbow-practice  would  be 
about  as  beneficial  to  his  employers,  or  the  public,  as 
most  of  the  wild  gesticulations  of  ranting,  canting  (so- 
called)  preachers. 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."         135 

"What  the  capital  of  this  country  ought  to  do  might 
require  a  volume  to  narrate  the  about  which  of,  and 
might  be  attended  to  by  them  (at  present)  about  as 
"  muchly  energetically  "  as  a  "  lively  cotton  hand,"  since 
his  enfranchisement,  would  be  likely  act  upon  anything 
but  fishing  for  tadpoles  and  voting  for  fools.  (But  I  ex- 
pect something  else,  nevertheless,  will  spring  up  out  of  it 
before  (I  imagine)  I  temporarily  quit  this  subject.)  The 
laborer  may  listen  even  now,  tho',  to  some  "  little  say " 
from  their  co-laborer — Jonas  Simpkins,  the  wood-sawyer. 
(If  they  follow  (after  reading)  some  little  of  whatever 
"  unasked  advice  "  may  be  given,  they'll  be  as  luckily 
happy  (as  to  their  conscience,  if  not  their  pocket),  as  the 
man  who,  in  digging  up  some  "  poke-root  "  out  of  his 
yard,  found  a  bag  of  gold  to  reward  himself  and  his  poor 
relations  with.  Digging  for  "poke-root"  and  finding 
gold  don't  always  happen — no  more  than  hiring  yourself 
for  $1.25  per  day  is  likely  to  "fetch  you  in  "  $5—"  with- 
out wronging  somebody  "  (and  this  will  never  do  well, 
for  you  will  surely  then  have  to  restitute).  The  laborer 
{honest  worker)  has  some  faults ;  but  if  he  will  read  on 
who  knows  but  what  he  may  not  find  some  advice  that 
if  followed  would  enable  him  to  shun  them — which,  as 
they  are  more  errors  of  the  head  than  the  heart,  I  sup- 
pose he  wishes  to  do.  Labor  is  apt  to  be  too  eager 
to  hire;  so  much  so  that  he  often  agrees  to  do  too 
much  work — thereby  injuring  his  health  (which,  when 
gone,  gives  him  over  to  poverty  and  reproach  from 
those  who  abetted  the  catastrophe)  and  unconsciously 
assisting  in  keeping  a  brother  laborer  out  of  an  honest 
living. 

Laborers !   you  should  make  quick,  sharp  strokes,  at 


T36  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire"  • 

cutting  down  expenses,  as  far  as  justice  to  the  actual 
needs  of  your  family,  poor  relations,  and  suffering  hu- 
manity will  allow;  at  cutting  up  the  acquaintance  of 
rum-shops,  beer-gardens,  gambling  saloons,  and  street 
corners — as  the  time  and  money  "  disbursed  "  there  are 
needed  at  home  (as  to  the  time :  for  reading,  improving 
your  place,  or  assisting  your  family ;  as  to  the  money ; 
for  dependence  in  sickness,  or  discharge,  and  inde- 
pendence of  the  tyrannical  usurpations  of  "  cliqued 
thieves");  at  cutting  off  from  the  companionship  of 
loafers  and  nice  (?)  young  men  generally — as  their  aim  is 
to  cheat  you  out  of  what  your  lenient  (?)  employer  hath 
seen  fit  in  the  warmth  of  his  attachment  for  you  and 
yours  to  leave  unappropriated  by  himself:  at  cutting 
at  the  leadership  of  such  politicians  as  propose  to  vote 
for  more  poor-houses  and  penitentiaries — as  in  the  mag- 
nanimity of  their  he'art  they  will,  after  impoverishing  you 
with  tax  in  building  them,  desire  to  send  you  there  as 
vagrants  (they  may  wish  to  haul  you  to  the  polls  on 
voting-day,  perhaps,  and  might  do  so  then) :  for  the 
preservation  of  honor,  by  abstaining  from  low  flattery  or 
low  cunning,  either  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  work 
for  yourself  or  the  down  tall  of  another — as  the  loss  of 
your  honor  is  the  dearest  wish  of  dishonest  capital,  as 
that  being  gone  they  can  use  you  as  they  wish,  or  cast  you 
aside  as  suits  them  best ;  for  the  diffusion  of  a  more 
thorough  intelligence,  by  a  well-paid  (not  tax-paid)  train- 
ing of  the  reason  and  the  affections,  and  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  your  children  may  be  enabled  to  understand  the 
duties  due  to  others  and  the  duties  others  owe  them  ; 
for  the  protection  of  virtue,  by  keeping  your  sons  and 
daughters  at  school  until  their  minds  are  capable  of  un- 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire.'"  137 

derstanding  the  tricks  of  trade  and  the  debauchery  of  the 
dishonest  capitalist ;  for  the  sustaining  of  your  own 
rights,  by  demanding  the  eight-hour  law,  and  that  (which 
is  of  more  importance  still)  having  of  a  thorough  under- 
standing that  what  is  mine  is  also  my  needy  brother's — 
and  altho'  you  contend  for  just  wages  to  be  paid  for  work 
performed,  yet,  for  humanity's  sake,  let  not  violence 
accompany  thy  demands:  for  the  protection  of  the  pro- 
perty of  all — as  by  that  are  your  rights  best  secured,  and 
your  hungry  children's  mouths  best  filled  and  your 
many  Deeds  supplied. 

To  explain  about  "  sum  "  expressions  heretofore  made : 

Expense  is  the  account  to  which  all  deficits  are 
debited,*  and  to  be  of  just  proportions  "  should  be  well 
watched  by  allowing  none  but  natural  and  (because  natu- 
ral) beneficent  ends  to  be  filled  by  either  disbursements 
of  money  or  time  ("for  time  is  money''"').  When  that  is 
followed,  no  harm  can  accrue  from  expense. 

UglPBut  let  not  too  close  an  observance  of  this  account  (as 
to  its  aggregate),  nor  too  much  detesting  of  extravagance, 
cause  you  to  defraud  your  wood  sawyer  of  his  just  wages 
or  the  washwoman  of  the  amount  due  her  for  the  money 
she  has  expended  for  soap. 

Drinking  "  sum "  is  not  hurtful.  Most  all  people 
drank  "  sum  "  before  you,  and  after  you're  gone  and  been 
buried,  lo!  for  many  years,  they  will  continue  to  drink 
after  you  (at  least  I  expect  so) — especially  of  good  old  rye 
and  good  ale— but  too  much  following  of  it  will  cause  you 
to  become  besotted,  to  be  the  tools  of  fools  and  knaves, 

*  How  Jonas  came  lo  use  such  words  I  know  not.  Deficit  means 
want ;    debited  signifies  charged  with  debt. — (Ed.) 


138  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire." 

to  be  an  injury  to  your  family  and  friends,  to  be  an  insult 
to  mankind,  and  to  be  a  foot-ball  for  your  enemies. 

|pgf°I  am  convinced  that  dishonest  grab-bag  capital  have 
done  much,  by  overwork,  toward  driving  you  into  it — to 
enable  you  by  stimulus  to  perform  the  work  (of  two  men 
from  one  man's  strength)  which  they  have  demanded; 
but  it  won't  pay  you  to  heed  raEM. 

Loafing  is  no  more  conducive  to  health,  than  over-vtork 
(which  has  been  the  means  of  driving  you  to  it,  and 
making  you  satisfied  with  it)  is  conducive  to  bodily  vigor 
and  happiness ;  than  the  companionship  of  loafers  con- 
ducive is  to  virtue  and  truthfulness ;  than  the  following  of 
political  intriguers  is  the  surest  road  to  honor  and  wealth. 

Monopolies,  generally,  are  combinations  of  strong  men 
to  defeat  the  weak ;  rich  men  to  destroy  the  poor ;  wicked 
to  overcome  the  virtuous — and  of  them  beware. 

Honor  preserved  is  of  more  value  than  wealth  attained  ; 
and  honor  sold,  even  for  bread,  is  worse  for  you  than  if 
millions  were  thrown  into  fathomless  ocean,  for,  unlike 
"  bread  cast  upon  the  waters,"  'twill  never  "  return  to 
you  again." 

f^jP  If  you  are  out  of  a  place,  or  money,  you  may 
obtain  other  positions  and  more  coin ;  but  honor  once 
sold,  even  if  place  is  secured  temporarily  by  it,  is  never 
again  regained. 

Preservation  of  virtue  is  better  secured  by  keeping  the 
weak  and  innocent  from  the  world's  machinations  *  as 
long  .as  possible,  with  useful  instruction  by  fireside  para- 
bles, or  thorough  information,  from  useful,  honest 
teachers. 

*  Evil  plottings  or  artifices. 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."  139 

Intelligence,  thorough,  can  be  obtained  after  mature 
age,  not  so  well  by  reading  the  works  of  others,  or  hear- 
ing others  preach,  as  by  studying  the  needs  of  your  own, 
and  other's  natures,  and  thinking  systematically  upon 
every  subject. 

%3H  Well-infor)ned  books  and  papers  —  illustrated 
would  be  good  ;  but  sensational  "  ne'er  do  well  " — are 
necessary,  and  required,  to  instruct  you  concerning  what 
to  think  on. 

Free  libraries  should  be  maintained  by  working  men, 
for  their  urgent  needs.  All  classes — rich  and  poor — need 
free  amusement.  Not  bawdy  halls  nor  variety  houses, 
but  free  circuses  and  theatres,  with  attendants,  intelligent 
and  civil.  This  is  no  Utopian  scheme ;  for  old  Rome, 
when  Rome  was  free,  had  them — one  of  which  alone 
would  seat  40,000  such  men  as  ordinarily  grow  in  our 
climate.     And,  if  Rome,  why  not  we  ? 

The  sycophant  money-grabber  often  proposes  to  hire 
your  young  sons  and  daughters  for  the  counting-room  or 
the  store-house ;  not  from  love  for  them,  or  respect  for 
you,  but  to  aid  in  "  cutting  your  throat  "  by  additional 
floods  of  cheap  labor,  and  to  have  young  minds  to  train 
up  for  the  gratification  of  their  infamous  plans  and 
desires.  Honest  capital  will  tell  }tou  to  keep  your  chil- 
dren at  home  until  they  can  read  a  little,  saw  a  little 
stick  of  kindling  or  knit  a  sock  ;  and,  in  the  meantime, 
pay  your  father  enough  to  support  such  great  extrava- 
gance (?),  if  it  be  extravagance  that  gives  us  our  chil- 
dren at  home,  and  gives  unto  our  children  a  home. 

"  Self  preservation  is  the -first  law  of  nature" — and 
hence  the  sustaining  of  your  own  rights  is  better  secured 
by  such   laws  as  will  embody  a  just  protection  for  all 


140  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire." 

labor ;  and  that  protection  does  not  consist  in  cheap 
goods  so  much  as  in  well-paid  labor —  for  if  your  w.ork  is 
generously  remunerated  you  can  be  able  (even  if  they 
should  be  high)  to  obtain  some  few  luxuries  (and  the 
rich  needn't  carp  at  that,  for  luxuries  for  the  poor 
wouldn't  be  ranked  with  4th-rate  necessities  with  them) 
for  a  sick  wife — or,  if  nothing  is  needed  among  family  or 
friends,  you  can  possibly  save  something ;  but  when  your 
wages,  taken  to  the  grocer  at  the  end  of  the  week,  won't 
satisfy  your  small  bill  there,  where  is  your  doctor's  bill, 
your  last  year's  clothing  bill,  or  where  are  the  little  shoes 
for  the  children  to  come  from,  or  the  flannels  for  the 
baby,  or — anything,  I  jing. 

Upgf"  In  fact,  if  it  were  Jonas  Simpkins  as  had  any 
say  (?)  about  the  matter,  he'd  say,  "  pass  over  your  much 
nickels  at  the  rate  of  $4.00  a  cord  for  cutting  up  your 
kindlings,"  if  he  had  to  pay  50c.  per  yard  for  cotton 
cloth,  that  the  cotton-spinners  might  get  enough  money 
per  week  to  get  some  calico  dresses  or  jean  pants  to 
strut  in.  on  Sunday.  Now,  as  a  general  thing,  I  don't 
"  fancy  strutting "  in  or  by  anything,  from  a  "  stately 
gobbler"  to  a  "  tin  rooster,"  from  a  "  gaudy  peacock  "  to 
a  D.  V.  man,  but  if  there  is  any  jean  pants  (on  a  brave 
youth),  or  calico  dress  (on  a  modest  girl)  ''going  along 
a-strutting,"  I  am  willing  to  admit  that  I'll  walk  a  good 
round  square  to  see  it,  and  wouldn't  consider  myself  much 
on  the  walk  at  that.  I've  believed,  before  now,  that  it  takes 
about  as  much  moral  courage  for  a  modest  girl,  "with  a 
new  calico  on,"  to  walk  thro'  a  double  row  of  gazing, 
giggling,  silken  misses  and  nicely-panted,  sweetly-mous- 
tached  youths,  as  they  stand  before  a  church  on  a  Sun- 
day morning,  as  it  would  for  a  modest  man  to  run  for 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."  141 

president  (of  a  debating  society),  or  a  Simpkins  to  say 
much  long  prayer  over  a  muchly-lamented,  but  muchly- 
dead  stage  hoss. 

Labor  is  as  essential  to  capital  as  capital  is  to  labor, 
and  we  hope  they  may  'ere  long  be  friends  ;  but  at  the 
present  there  is  no  use  of  "  mouthing  over  it,"  or  dis- 
guising the  fact  that,  between  honest  labor  and  dishonest 
capital  there  is  war;  .that  between  honest  capital  and 
worthless  labor,  there  is  war ;  and  until  some  of  the 
wrongs  are  righted,  some  ignorances  have  vanished,  and 
some  hands  of  fellowship  are  extended,  there  will  con- 
tinue so  to  be,     Hence,  what  I've  "  sayed." 

P.  S. — Let  mental  labor — Solomon  Smith — not  at- 
tempt to  slur  at  the  endeavors  of  a  wood-sawyer  to  fight 
for  his  rights  ;  as  upon  the  success  of  the  effort  to  raise 
the  price  of  "  cheap  labor "  depends  the  wages  of  every 
class  of  labor,  even  up  (?)  to  bank  clerk— and  not  only 
the  wages,  but  the  spare  time  to  read  and  think  in. 

N.  B. — I  don't  much  think,  just  now,  that  14  hours 
per  day  of  wood-sawing  (with  a  lunch  on  cold  beans),  at 
15c.  an  hour,  is  very  beneficial  to  Jonas  Simpkins  or  his 
much-hungry  family— as  we  can't  purchase  therewith 
much    mashed    potatoes     nor    much    "Josh    Billings' 

allmanax." 

# 

•  P.  S.  2. — The  avaricious,  money-grabbing,  many- 
nickel-investing  hypocrites,  if  they  read  this,  may  heave 
up  a  satirical,  hysterical  smile  (after  the  style  of  a  cross- 
eyed grin),  as  much  as  to  say,  Who  is  he  ?  But  when 
England's  peasantry  comes  to  the  front,  with  their  stone- 
picks,  their  weeding-hoes,  and  their  spades,  to  dig  down 
the  castles  of  unjust  gain,  to  weed  out  the  vices  of  be- 
sotted power,  and  to  bury  both  castles  and  vices  in  the 


142  "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire." 

dust,  mire,  and  filth — deposits  of  the  spawnings  of  the 
arrogant  and  vile — then  will  they  likely  be  slightly  re- 
minded of  the  advice  (given,  but  unheeded)  of  Jonas 
Simpkins — who  him  is  ! 

All  capital  must  remember  that,  as  Jonas  Simpkins 
has,  so  they  may,  become  "  dirty  laborers,"  so  called  ;  and 
all  laborers  must  recollect  that  (what  Jonas  may  ne'er  be 
again)  they  may  become  capital.  If  any  do  become 
capital,  I  trust  they'll  try  and  recollect  how  it  were  with 
them,  and  be  kind  unto  their  maid-servant  and  boy 
donkey.  Let  labor  not  envy  capital — the  dishonest 
kind — because  it  will  be  ultimately  the  more  bitter  to 
them  (the  parties  possessing)  than  Sodom  apples,  and 
just  as  apt  to  fall  to  pieces  (in  dust)  in  their  mouth  at 
the  first  tooth-grip ;  nor  the  honest  kind,  for  it  hath  a 
heavy  burden  to  bear — to  right  the  wrong,  lift  up  the  op- 
pressed, encourage  the  down-hearted,  instruct  the  ignor- 
ant, bring  system  out  of  "  looseness."  Nor  let  honest 
capital  and  honest  labor  decry  each  other,  for  they've 
got  to  swim  or  sink  together. 

But  let  labor  and  capital,  both,  recollect  that  there  is  no 
surplus  of  holiest,  intelligent  labor,  any  more  than  there 
is  of  honest  capital  or  good- old  rye  and  honey.  Then 
by  mutual  forbearance — with  discriminating  industry  on 
the  one  hand  (i.  e.,  labor),  and  kindness,  witli  proper 
remuneration,  on  the  part  ot  the  other  hand  (i.  e.,  capital) 
— so  bespattering  mankind  with  sweet  bread  and  gentle 
smiles  (well-assorted)  that  the  body  politic  may  be  made 
pure,  and  all  of  us  receive  a  fair  share  of  "  happy  vet." 

SOME   ANSWERS    TO     SOME     QUESTIONS    (as     to     this    Subject, 

— questions  not  given). 
Competition  is  the  life  of  trade,  "  but  it  is  that  kind 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."  143 

of  competitiveness  that  seeks  "  the  good  of  all,  not  the  ad- 
vantage of  one.  When  labor  seeks  to  "  compete  "  by  tak- 
ing low  prices  for  hard  work,  it(mayhaps  unconsciously) 
is  following  the  example  of  that  huge  snake  "  that  hun- 
gry eats  itself" — commencing  with  the  smallest  end  first, 
but,  nevertheless,  "  eating  itself  then"  When  labor 
attempts  to  "jew  deown"  on  prices  of  general  merchan- 
dise, it  is  also  injuring  itself;  for  most  of  capital  reduces 
wages  when  goods  "  go  cheap." 

"  Causes  and  effects  "  are  like  old  ocean's  currents, 
one  under  another,  one  following  another,  yet  some- 
times mingling  so  nicely  you  "  couldn't  tell  which  was 
which" — like  a  ball  of  yarn,  "  stran  "  beneath  a  "  stran," 
"  stran  "  athwart  a  "  stran,"  "  stran  "  around  a  "  stran," 
so  glibly  mixed  that  they  are  "  somewhat  to  unravel " — . 
And  so  it  is  with  labor:  "you  buy  cheap"  somebody 
else  "  goes  cheap,"  then  "  somebody  else  buys  cheaper," 
then  you  will  think  "  you  have  to  go  cheaper," 
therefore  beware  of  "  cutting  down  "  the  "  ruling  prices 
of  the  town  "  you  live  in.  And  so  it  is  with  capital ; 
discouraging  good  pay,  encourages  "  poor  work ;  "  poor 
work  sells  cheap ;  selling  cheap  work  is  of  "  little  pro- 
fit ;  "  "  little  profit  "  makes  you  wish  cheaper  labor ;  and 
that  cheaper  labor  wants  "low  prices  ;  "  and  low  prices 
are  the  antecedents   of  loafing   and  communism. 

Property  is  only  of  value  in  proportion  to  its  security 
from  burglary,  arson,  robbery,  riots,  and  wars. 

Security  is  only  generally  attainable  in  proportion  to 
the  contentment  of  mankind  as  to  position  and  needs. 
Contentment  is  mostly  secured  (as  to  position  and  needs) 
by  a  well  remunerated,  kindly  treated,  intelligently 
instructed  labor. 


144         "  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."    . 

Remuneration  proper,  consists,  generally,  in  giving 
a  fair  portion  of  the  profit  to  the  help. 

Kind  treatment  consists  in  speaking  gently  yet  firm- 
ly, and  supplying  the  needs  of  the  downcast  and 
wearied. 

Intelligent  instruction  is  better  given  by  encouraging 
systematic  thought  and  action. 

"  Let  no  time  be  wasted"  should  not  mean  that  14 
hours  a  day  must  be  industriously  filled  by  incessant 
labor  for  the  benefit  of  employer,  but  that  whatever  hours 
(and  as  few  as  possible — to  enable  all  to  obtain  work  as 
well  as  Test — are  the  best)  are  for  work,  the  remaining 
should  be  systematically  arranged  for  improvement  and 
rest.  The  belief  has  generally  obtained  that  labor 
wastes  its  time — even  if  allowed  it  from  the  workshop. 
If  that  be  so  it  is  bad  symptoms  and  needs  correcting  ; 
but  capital  is  as  much  to  blame  for  this  thing  as  labor 
(and  even  more),  for  capital,  which  is  supposed  to  know 
the  benefits  of  system,  has  never  taught  them  (labor) 
the  beauties  of  it — except  as  to  its  duty  to  it — nor 
seemed  to  care  to  do  so — rather  encouraging  than  other- 
wise, "  looseness  "  when  "  their  time  was  up."  The 
cause  was  (I  suppose)  that  they  knew  that  as  "  looseness 
as  to  use  of  time,  so  looseness  as  to  use  of  money,  means 
want,  and  want  signifies  more  "  long  work  "  and  "  short 
pay." 

Honest  labor  is  that  which  tries  to  do  one  thins: 
(at  a  time)  perfectly,  and  to  fulfill  its  promised  engage- 
ments. Honest  capital  is  that  which  strives  to  secure 
good  labor  at  good  pay  without  overwork — never  for  the 
sake  of  large  profits,  which  no  one  may  ever  enjoy,  sac- 
rificing health  of  self  or  employee. 


"  The  Laborer  is  Worthy  of  his  Hire."  145 

Common  labor  is  the  reverse  of  honest  labor. 

Dishonest  capital  is  the  reverse  of  honest  capital. 

The  character  of  a  mean  employer  is — why,  my  son, 
it  is — j-u-s-t  a-b-o-u-t  1-i-k-e  t-h-a-t  o-f  a  h-o-r-n-e-t's 
n-e-s-t — while  you  are  with  him  the  stay  is  unpleasant,  and 
when  you  attempt  to  leave  just  as  much  of  a  "  disa- 
greeable " — no  happiness  to  be  seen  until  after  you  are 
gone,  if  then. 


"LAUGH   AND    GKOW   FAT." 


Some  one  hath  said,  that,  "  in  laughter  alone  do  we 
differ  from  beasts."  I  have  to  suppose  that  he  meant 
an  honest  man's  laugh — the  kind  that  warbles  forth  like 
unto  a  pearly  brook  which,  meandering  along,  gently  ir- 
rigates the  dry  and  thirsty  soil  around  it,  and  makes  all 
the  adjacent  "naborhood"  "smile"  like  as  unto  a 
flowery  plain.  "  The  morning  sun  "  (before  it  "  gits  up 
high  "  I  mean,  of  course,  for  when  it  "  gits  on  a  high  "  in 
summer  it  dries  up  much  laugh  or  much  smile  of  flowery 
plain,  or  much  brooks,  or  much  anything,  is  pretty  good 
as  a  laugh  generator — Tm  a  thinking. 

The  present  system  of  "rush  for  gain,"  amongst  "two- 
legged  bipeds  without  feathers,"  tends  to  clog  up  the 
stream  of  laughter,  as  it  curdles  the  cream  from  the  "  milk 
of  human  kindness ;  "  and  the  wealth-seekers  will  at  the 
end  find  that  they  can't  open  it  again  with  the  combined 
efforts  of  "  all  the  clergy."  The  remark  about  "  two- 
legged  bipeds  without  feathers"  ain't  intended  for  an  in- 
sult to  "  sum  "  picked  "  rooster,"  Plato's  representation 
to  his  scholar  who  gave  that  as  a  definition  of  What 
Man  was?  as  to  how  his  meaning  might  be  construed. 
(I  make  this  explanation  more  from  a  "  love  "  I  always 
had  for  the  (tender)  rooster  than  for  any  especial  like  for 
the  coin-squeezing  man.) 


"  Laugh  and  Grow  Fat.  147 

The  horse  laugh — the  kind  that  "  abounds  in  the  mouth 
of  fools  " — nor  the  sneer  laugh  of  the  proud,  nor  the  syco- 
phantic smile  of  the  deceitful,  nor  the  sarcastic  grin  of 
the  vain,  ain't  the  quality  of  laugh  to  bring  much  joy  to 
man's  heart,  much  flesh  to  one's  bones,  nor  won't  do  to 
water  much  big  field  of  turnips  with. 

But  as  to  genuine,  heart-felt,  head-clear,  mouth  over- 
flowing, jubilant,  "  hold-on-to-your-top-knot"-and-your 
slippers-too,  tear  away  laughter,  I  am  in  favor  of  it,  from 
the  tip  of  my  longest  hair  to  the  outward  rim  of  my 
big-toe  nails.  I  am,  in  fact,  now  believing  that  kind  of 
laugh  to  be  "  heap  better  "  nor  a  sermon,  schnapps,  oys- 
ters, or  beer-^in  fact,  than  everything  but  old  rye,  or 
mashed  potatoes — for  any  complaint  from  "yaller  fever" 
to  a  cold  in  the  head,  from  a  scold  in  the  house  to  a  "  wet 
blanket." 

I  am  so  much  in  favor  of  genuine  laughter  (whether 
it  make  a  man  fat  or  not)  that  I'd  prefer  my  friends  to 
laugh  at  me  rather  than  they  should  not  laugh  at  all. 
This  isn't  because  I  love  myself  less,  but  that  I  like 
my  friends  more  (?) — whether  you  believe  it,  or  not, 
makes  "  nothing  care  "  to  Jonas. 

My  "  three  year  old  "  appreciates  it  when  she  asks  her 
ma  to  "  laugh  at  her  "  (when  she's  been  a  naughty  girl), 
and  she  will  take  no  fool  of  a  laugh  for  a  satisfaction 
cither — "  a  true  Simpkins  "  there.  (It  seems  to  prevent 
much  birch  bending.)  My  six  months  prodigy  (for  "an 
old  man")  shows  its  preferences  for  heart-whole  laughter 
by  a  general,  genial  crow.  "That  oldest  one,  asked  her 
ma  once "  if  "  God  wouldn't  'augh  at  her  when  she 
died  and  went  to  heaven  ?  "  Blessed  (unsophisticated, 
yet  truly  wise)  innocence,  I  believe  God  will,  and  just  as 


148  "Laitgli  and  Grow  Fat." 

you  mean  it  /  even  now,  His  smile  is  the  cause  of  our 
happiest  laughter. 

Whenever  I  find  a  young  man  that  can  laugh  at  the 
loss  of  a  beloved  moustache,  a  maiden  that  can  let  flow 
a  satisfactory  smile  at  the  loss  of  a  youthful  lover,  a 
middle  aged  man  in  tights,  that  can  whistle  a  laugh  if 
his  financial  or  fleshly  heels  are  tripped  from  under  him, 
or  an  old  man  that  can  smile  benignly  on  his  own  follies 
or  the  follies  of  others,  I  imagine  that  I  shall  believe  in 
long  life  as  to  them,  and  that  I'd  much  rather  be  their 
friend  than  their  enemy.  There  is  nothing  near  a  hearty 
laugh,  unless  it  are  a  smile  at  "  sum  "  good  old  rye  and 
honey,  or  a  smile  from  an  affectionate  spouse.  I've  seemed 
to  learn  this  after  awhile.  I  smile  always  when  Sally 
Jane  passes  me  the  rye  and  honey,  and  Sally  Jane  smiles 
when  I  pass  her  the  "  mashed  potatoes  "  (no  new  bonnets 
near  our  dilapidated  wood-shed). 

P.  S.  I  am  waiting  anxiously  a  genial  smile  from  my 
suffering  feller-citizens. 


"YOU    MOW    HOW    IT    IS    YOUR- 
SELF." 


"  Shaep  "  young  men,  "bright"  old  men,  ■" fast" 
young  maidens,  "  dilapidated "  old  maids,  bachelors 
from  25  to  40,  newsboys,  calico-cutters,  peanut-peddlars,- 
ragpickers,  theatre  actors  and  goers,  belles  at  balls,  capi- 
talists on  'change,  small  grocers — and  everything  that 
wears  a  dolly  varden  skirt,  hat,  boot,  necktie,  shirt,  pa- 
per collar,  or  spurs — have  taken  up  this  much  thumped 
phrase,  and  hurled  it  around  at  indiscriminate  humanity, 
until  like  that  of  "  a  very  hot  day  to-day  "  (in  summer 
weather),  it  has  become  most  confoundedly,  egotistically, 
outrageously,  superciliously,  abominably  disgusting  to 
some  persons  I  know  (?)  of. 

J.  E.  Wett  is  always  throwing  that  "  hot  day  "  phrase 
at  me,  and  if  he  were  not  such  a  warm  friend  of  mine 
I  think  I  should  give  him  a  bath  of  cold  water.  I  often 
feel  like  "telling"  J.  E.  Wett,  when  he  is  so  constantly 
"  giving  (me)  good  morning,"  in  the  not  classic  but  ex- 
pressive language  of  an  old  friend,  Smith-weeke,  "  good 
morning  for  a  week,  dod  drat  you." 

This  bandying  of  badly  stuck-together  phrases  is  pecu- 
liarly an  Americanism  (an  American's  specialty),  and  the 
worst  of  it  is  that  almost  unconsciously  the  best  informed 
"  get  into  the  habit ; "  and  hence,  I  am  afraid  (?)  I  have 
been  led  to  "follow  suit?  "  If  I  have  done  so,  I  may  be 


150  "  You  Know  How  It  Is  Yotirsclf." 

sorry,  but  I  shed  no  crocodile  tears  over  it,  like  unto  a* 
"  sum  "  chief  mourner  at  a  well  preserved  funeral,  before 
a  fashionable  audience  on  a  well  sioept  burying  ground, 
but  continue  to  "  try  and  not  do  so,"  likewise,  "  any 
more  "  if  "  I  know  myself."  Suppose  I  did  then — well 
you  can  (?)  skip  that. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen  (I  have  sometimes  observed) 
most  men  seem  to  "know  (about)  how  it  is  yourself" 
better  than  when  they  arrive  at  the  mature  boyhood  of 
sixty  summers,  as  }Tour  Uncle  Jonas,  so-called. 

I  don't  know  why  this  is,  unless  it  are  that  when  a 
youth  gets  to  the  hoary  age  of  60  he  finds  that  the 
longer  a  man's  life  is  the  more  he  finds  (I  golly)  out  that 
"  he  didn't  know  what  he  thought  he  knowed "  about 
himself  or  anybody  else's  self,  his  own  things  or  any- 
body else's — "  whomsumever's  " — things.  About  the  only 
thing  I  soem  to  know  is,  that  I  know  not.  I  have 
known  (?)  some  very  small  infant  that,  I  imagined, 
thought  it  knevj  all  about  how  it  were  ?Yself  (so-called), 
when  it  took  up  some  large  piece  of  liquorice  and  put  it 
to  its  mouth-diminutive,  under  the  impression  that  it 
"  were  be  going  to  have  a  nice  sweet  time  of  it" — them, 
infant  were  mistaken,  as  one  might  discover  (when  the 
liquorice  reached  its  destination)  by  their  grimaces. 

I  have  known  (?)  some  three-year-old  c-h-i-1-d-r-c-n 
that  seemed  to  think  they  know  how  it  are  themselves, 
about  the  climbing  of  fences  and  garden  gates ;  but, 
"  waking  up  "  with  their  nether  garments  well  stretch- 
ed, and  their  head  hanging  downward — trying  (?)  to 
analyze  the  sands  beneath  them — would  "seem  to  ought 
to  discourage"  the  growth  of  vanity,  in  that  respect, 
pro  tern. 


"  You  Know  How  It  Is  Yourself."  151 

(But  vanity  in  some  children,  like  in  some  grown  folks, 
never  dies.) 

I  have  known  (?)  "sum"  10-year-old  that  imagined 
they  "  know  how  it  were  and  all  about  it  " — in  the  way 
of  education — to  an  extent  that  ought  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  a  60-yr.-old  genius. 

I  have  imagined  that  "  sum  "  20-year-old  premature 
ly-aged  individuals  were  morely  certain  that  they  hieto 
all  about  the  "tricks  of  trade"  and  business  life,  to  a 
nicety  that  should  bring  to  their  summons  the  unsolici- 
ted capital  of  an  eager  Stewart,  and  command  the  res- 
pect of  an  Astor,  when  at  the  same  time  they  couldn't 
account  for  the  errors  in  a  small  sixpenny  deposit  in  an 
over-burdened  (?)  bank  account.  "  Sum  "  "  bizness  " 
folks  and  capper-tellists*  imagine  t/ieyknow  "  how  it  is  " 
when  they  hire  a  book-keeper,  at  $500  per  annum  to 
"  fill  the  bill "  of  a  steady-laboring,  active-brained  man, 
who  should,  for  his  attention  to  their  interests  and  the 
consumption  of  his  time  and  life,  secure  the  salary  of 
$2,000  per  annum  (and  poor  pay  at  that),  "  their  pro- 
fits are  so  small  that  they  can't  afford  that  kind  of 
help,"  they  say.  [I  sometimes  have  to  surmise  that 
they  don't  understand  that  if  they  only  make  $5,000  per 
annum  where  they  employ  a  "  good  man,"  that  they 
may  only  realize  "  nix  "  when  they  "  charter  "  an  ill- 
constructed  "  common  one :  "  or  if  they  secure  "  nary 
good  results  "  when  they  have  some  worthy  worker,  that 
their  profits  (?)  may  be  "  over  the  left"  (hand-side  of  the 
page)  when  the  help  is  of  the  imaginative  kind]. 

Some   sixty -year-old   youths   seem   to  desire  it  to  be 

*  Jouas  "  has  flown  again."    Capitalists.— {Ed.) 


152  "  You  Know  How  It  Is  Yourself." 

"  perfectly  understood "  that  they  are  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  "  ins  and  outs  of  life,"  because  they 
happen  to  suppose  that  "  the  earth  is  round  like  unto  an 
apple,"  or  the  "  moon  ain't  green  cheese  "  no  more,  or 
"  things  are  not  as  they  used  to  was,"  or  they  are  not 
"growing  old  a  bit  more  than  formerly"  or  Simon 
Simpkins'  calf  (that  they  wanted  to  huy)  "ain't  much 
calf  any  how,"  or  that  the  world  is  near  its  final  wind- 
up,  or  that  old  rye  are  not  healthy. 
"  Sum  "   poets  know   (?)  they  are  laureates — or  should 

be   (?). 
"  Sum  "  authors  know  (?)  their  books  will  live  thro'  all 

time — or  should  (?). 
"  Sum"  religious  persons  know  (?)  that  "  thar  toe  hold" 
on   heaven   is  sure — or   might,    could,    would,    or 
should,  will,  shall,  or  must  be. 
"  Sum  "  business   men   (so-called)   know  (?)  that  "  thar's 
ar "   the  road  to   wealth — their  method   the    only 
safe    one   to  prevent   bankruptcy ;  and   that    Sam 
Jones  is  "  clean  gone  "  and  will  be  "  sold  out  " — or 
should  he  (?). 
"  Sum  "  women  know  (?)  that   their  lovers  are  "  honest, 
brave   and   true,"  and  that  Jenny  Tompkins's  is  a 
"  rover  " — or  should  be,  or  His  hoped  roill  he  (?). 
"  Sum "  men   know    (?)    that   their    sweethearts  are  as 
"lovely  as   a  butterfly,  as  beautiful  as  an  houri,  as 
sensible  as  a  Madame  De  Stael,  and  as  honest  as  a 
Martha  Washington ;    but   that   all   others    are   as 
fickle  as  a  coquet,  and  as  apt  to  fade  away  as  an 
autumn  day — or  het  so. 
"  Sum  "  men,  women,  and  children,  "  don't  know  noth- 
ing natally  no  how,"  or  if  they   do   don't  seem  to 


"  You  Know  How  It  Is  Yourself.'"  153 

develop  a  display  of  any  excess  of  ability  in  the 
showing  of  it — and  to  them  the  previous  portion 
of  this  yes-say  (?)  has  been  devoted,  in  the  trying 
to  "  inspire  "  them  in  some  other  way — at  least  may 
be  so  (?). 
Jonas  Simpkins  has,  after  mature  consideration,  and 
careful  deliberation,  decided  to  the  satisfaction  of  his 
own  mind,  at  present  at  least,'  that  those  who.  are 
thoroughly  posted — like  posts  in  the  sink-hole  of  vanity, 
or  bogmire  of  pride,  to  be  washed  up  by  some  mental 
thunder-squall — as  to  the  "  knowing  of  how  it  is 
yourself" — about  everything  from  the  borning  of  a  child 
to  the  burying  of  a  somnambulistic,  apoplectic,  epileptic 
oldish  person  ;  from  the  "  running  of  a  (toy)  engine  "  to 
the  construction  of  a  railroad  ;  from  the  "  keeping  of  a 
junk  shop  to  "filling  the  chair  of  state  ;"  from  "corres- 
ponding with  a  lovely  maid  "  to  editing  a  "  Tribune,"  a 
"  Times,"  or  an  "Index  ;"  from  "  spinning  small  yarns  " 
on  street  corners  (to  "  admiring  boot-blacks")  to  "  pla}T- 
ing  the  roll  of  a  Forrest ;"  from  a  "  log  rolling  of  many 
large  logs  "  to  making  mud  pies  in  the  street  gutters ; 
from  filling  positions  (of  every  J.'ukJ)  well,  when  obtain- 
ed, to  obtaining  positions  of  every  (or  any)  kind  to  fill — 
are  about  as  scarce  as  the  "grease  in  an  onion,"  "hair 
on  a  sheep's  back  "  (or  a  very  young  man's  upper  lip) 
the  passionate  love  of  an  old  man,  the  wise  sayings  of 
twenty-year-old  "colts,"  the  certainty  of  obtaining 
money  out  of  much  promise,  the  probability  of  securing 
much  brains  by  "  doing  for  '  sum  '  fried  oysters,"  or  the 
likelihood  that  his  children  will  ever  be  thoroughly,  sat- 
isfactorily fed  as  to  mind  and  body — especially  the 
body. 


154  "  you  Know  How  It  Is  Yourself." 

P.  S. — /thought  about  the  age  of  10  that  "/  knew 
how  it  were  myself,"  when  I  climbed  a  peach-tree  for 
"  sum "  peaches ;  but  when,  after  filling  my  boyish 
paunch  with  much  fruit  of  that  kind  from  an  adjoining 
limb,  I  proceeded  to  sing  some  juvenile  song,  and,  while 
swinging  backward  by  a  dead  young  elm,  fell  to  earth's 
embrace,  with  some  pertinacious  hold  on  some  piece  of 
that  elm,  I  wasn't  so  certain,  even  if  my  pertinacity  was 
much,  that  my  knowledge  was  anything  to  boast  on.  A 
picking  up 'of  "sum"  not  quite  dead  boy  by  some 
handy  servant,  "sum"  needy  (?)* spanking  by  some 
handy  mother,  "  sum  "  cogitations  upon  the  uncertainty 
of  aerial  joys  of  peach-tree  characteristics,  and  the  advan- 
tages of  solid  ground,  were  somewhat  more  prolific  of  a 
development  of  thought  that  tended  to  convince  me,  at 
that  time,  that  I  didn't  know  "  all  about  how  it  were  " 
myself.  There  is  nothing  better  for  the  temporary  knock- 
ing out  of  some  vanity  out  of  "  sum  young  ones,"  than 
a  "smart"  fall  from  a  peach-tree  limb — the  only  thing  is, 
that  as  everything  has  a  consolation,  or  a  hitter  in  it, 
so  the  bitter  of  the  peach-tree  concoction  ma/y  he  that  a 
small  boy  is  apt  to  get  the  "  spots  knocked  out  of  him." 
("Know  thyself"  was,  I  believe,  one  of  Solomon's  mot- 
toes ;  but,  altho '  Solomon  was  accounted  a  right  smart 
man,  and  tolerably  wise  in  his  time,  yet  he  can't  equal 
the  young  folks  now-a-days;  for  these  young  ones  say, 
"  We  know  ourselves,  and  have  pretty  nigh  found  out 
our  neighbors."  Nothing  like  real  progression,  "espe- 
cially in  this  climate  where  dog- wood  "  rales "  are 
"skase.)"  We  never  forget  the  habit  of  thinking  "we 
know  it  all "  until  we  get  very  old,  and  "  sum  "  not  then. 
At  the  age  of  13  I  imagined  Latin  was  my  forte  (and  it 


"  You  Know  How  It  Is  Yourself."  155 

was  my  hobby — the  riding  of  which,  sometimes,  I  ain't 
quite  got  over  yet),  and  that  what  I  didn't  know  about 
it  Cicero  could  not  have  taught ;  but,  as  I  was  about 
becoming  muchly  elevated  on  acconnt  of  my  supposed 
knowledge,  a  few  strengthening  slips  (?)  of  the  birch, 
in  the  hands  of  an  irate  tutor,  who  imagined  I  didn't 
understand  my  lesson,  fully  demonstrated  the  fact  that 
I  didn't  "know  how  it  were  myself"  "for  the  time 
being." 

At  the  age  of  22,  fully  advised  that  I  knew  how  to 
"  run  "  a  country  store,  I  attempted  it ;  and  "  two  short 
years"  afterwards  my  muchly  damaged  credit  and  in- 
creasing indebtedness  (for  I  "  busted  ")  didn't  fully  satisfy 
my  creditors,  as  I  understand,  as  to  my  "  knowing  to  a  cer- 
tainty how  it  were  myself." 

At  the  age  of  60,  so-called,  I  am  no  more  "  larned  " 
about  the  realities  of  life  than  I  ought  to  be  ;  for  altho' 
experience  may  have  been  a  good  teacher,  as  far  as  she 
went,  yet  she  didn't  go  far  enough  to  enable  me  to  be 
fully  prepared  to  state  positively  that  / "  know  how  it 
are  myself."  "  Knowledge  is  power,"  some  say  ;  and  if 
it  be  true,  as  taught,  why  the  amount  of  power  now  in 
use  amongst  most  of  men,  or  by  most  of  men,  wouldn't 
be  sufficient  to  construct  a  good-sized  ant-house,  much 
less  build  a  world,  with  little  bugs  and  crocodiles,  ele- 
phants and  tadpoles,  'whales  and  green-bottle  flies,  giraffes 
and  half-shelled  chickens,  alligators  and  "minners,"  sea- 
turtles  and  terrapins,  sea-lions  and  oysters,  bad  debts 
and  musquitoes,  slow  debts  and  snails,  no  debts  and  poor- 
houses  all  mixed  up  in  it,  like  unto  a  clam  chowder,  yet 
as  perfect  in  their  movements  as  the  spheres,  and  as  regu- 
lar in  their  habits  as  a  "  meeting-house." 


156  "  You  Knotv  How  It  Is  Yourself." 

"To  know  or  not  to  know,  that's  the  question1;"  as 
"  sum  un  "  "  puts  it."  And  if  any  will  tell  me  what  1  want 
"  to  know  "  I'll  treat  .them,  but  if  they  will  inform  me 
as  to  how  not  to  know  about  "  sum  "  things  I'll  "  treat 
'em  better." 

"  To  know  about '  what  never  was,'  nor  '  are  not  now,'  I 
care  not,"  saith  a  friend  ;  and  "Til  be  fetched  "  if  I  ain't 
like  him ;  but  so  ain't  all  folks. 

"  Strive  for  knowledge,"  say  some.  Yes,  that's  right ; 
but  it  don't  mean  that  a  feller  (that  can't  swim)  shall 
attempt  to  ascertain  the  depth  of  a  creek  by  squatting 
on  a  slippery  log,  fishing  for  minerals  or  "  minners."  I  at 
least  don't  think  it  does,  for  it's  too  risky — not  for  the 
"  minners,"  minerals  or  log,  but  only  for  the  feller.  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  tho,'  that  a  man  should  attempt  to  ac- 
quire the  knowledge  of  correctly  "  discussing "  mashed 
potatoes,  even  if  he  has  to  stride  a  saw-buck  to  do  it. 

"  Seeming  knowledge "  is  not  real  knowledge,  "  sum 
un  "  says  again.  No !  I  guess  not ;  but  yet  it  seemeth 
as  if  we  were  only  likely  to  attain  to  that  kind,  if  any ; 
and  the  stock  of  that  don't  seem  very  abundant  or  well- 
assorted.  Some  men  can  build  a  steamboat,  but  some 
men  don't  seem  to  know  how  to  thread  a  needle.  Some 
men  can  govern  (after  a  fashion)  a  good-sized  empire, 
but  some  men  don't  seem  to  know  how  "  to  run  "  a  little 
horse-car  (at  all).  Some  men  can  play  on  the  melodeon, 
but  some  men  don't  seem  to  know  how  to  grind  a  hand- 
organ.  Even  the  seeming  to  know  how  to  grind  a  hand- 
organ  is  more  knowledge  than  most  of  men  get  to  pos- 
sess in  a  life-time.     I'll  acknowledge  that  I  don't. 

N.B. — Anacreon  undoubtedly  thought  that  he  "knew 
how  it  were  himself  "  as  to  eating  "  sum"  raisins — having 


"  You  Know  How  It  Is  Yourself."  157 

masticated  some  raisins  before — but  be  was  cboked  to 
deatb  one  day  on  a  small  raisin  seed. 

Caesar  is  supposed  to  bave  believed  himself  acquainted 
with  bow  it  were  as  to  many  things ;  but  he  "  crossed 
the  Rubicon,"  and  Rome  was  free  no  more. 

Napoleon,  the  Onct,  who  was  "  pretty  generally  in- 
formed," possessed  after  all  only  seeming  knowledge,  as 
a  Waterloo  with  its  unexpected  Blucher,  and  St.  Helena's 
quondam  defiant  smile — down  from  its  rocky  heights — 
on  the  conqueror  of  a  hemisphere,  and  the  creature  of 
circumstances,  ought  to  prove.  Possess  thyself  of  all 
seeming  knowledge,  but  trust  to  nature  for  a  proper  en- 
lightenment as  to  the  how — I'd  say. 


MASHED  POTATOES. 


Masixed  potatoes,  like  most  any  other  kind  of  diet,  re- 
quires some  mixing  e'er  it  "  ar  fit  for  dacint  folks"  to 
partake  of. 

The  above  remark  about  diet  don't  only  refer  to  the 
food  that  we  expect  by  grubbing  to  obtain  for  our  natu- 
ral bodies,  but  it  will  also  apply  to  that  intellectual  and 
moral  diet  that  we  strive  to  acquire  for  the  nourishment 
of  our  mental  and  spiritual  systems. 

Whether  there  be  any  suitable  diet  for  you,  my  reader, 
in  this  little  book,  1  know  not,  but  I  am  inclined  to  be- 
lieve that  it  are  at  least  pretty  well  mixed — some  earnest 
talk,  some  chat,  some  plain  reasoning,  some  things  that 
"  there  ain't  much  reason  in,"  some  sigh,  some  grin,  may- 
be some  cry,  may-be  some  laugh,  some  hits,  some  pats, 
some  bits,  some  bats,  something  "  that  may-be  you  don't 
know  of,"  some  more  things  that  you  may  suppose  you 
know  all  about — like  life,  if  taken  aright,  plenty  of  fun 
and  plenty  of  fight.  If  you  don't  find  what  you  want 
"  pass  it  by." 

Whence  many  "  get  good  pickings"  some  more  may 
get  supplied,  and  without  much  fear  of  strychnine  either. 

A  good  book,  like  life,  "  sorter  kinder  "  resembles  a 
big,  well-crammed,  well-assorted  lunch  basket,  having 
some  pickles,  some  jam,  some  sass,  some.ta/'ts,  some  stale 


fr^m 


& '".  j 


..# 


1 


•Tonus  discusses  as  to  the  wholesome  beauties  of  mashed-potato, 
— by  tasting  and  talking. 


Mashed  Potatoes.  159 

bread,  some  more  tarts,  some  more  sass,  some  more  jam, 
and  some  more  pickles  (and  many  other  things) ;  and  re- 
petition is  continued  as  long  as  the  basket  will  hold  them 
without  bursting. 

We  are,  most  of  us,  always  complaining  about  the  sour 
in  our  sweet,  but  I  wouldn't  myself  like  lemonade  with- 
out some  sour  lemon  in  it,  nor  bitters  without  some 
cherry  bark  in  it.  It's  just  my  nature,  tho,'  and  I  can't 
help  it ;  if  anybody  else  likes  them  "  differently  fixed  " 
they  can  enquire  and  find  them  at  most  first-class  lemon- 
ade stands  or  drug  stores — "just  put  up  to  suit  their 
taste."  Mature,  tho',  never  mixes  things  badly.  If  we 
think  so  its  just  because  we  ain't  "posted" — the  little  hole 
for  our  post  not  yet  being  dug,  or  our  "  posting"  yet 
begun. 

Sally  Jane,  my  wife,  is  pretty  good  on  mixing  things, 
also — especially  as  to  old  rye  and  honey,  and  mashed 
potatoes. 

"  Mashed  potatoes"  are  bread  and  meat  to  some  folks, 
the  sustenance  of  the  life  that  now  is  to  others,  and  a 
kind  of  make-up-an-assortment  to  the  table  of  a  phew; 
but,  as  Jonas  Siinpkins  smiling  regards  them  (from  the 
corner  of  his  left  eye),  they  are  the  nourishment  of  the 
body  of  some  Simpkinses,  as  well  as  that  material  sub- 
stance from  which  an  extract  is  obtained  that  buoys  up 
the  system,  giving  such  encouragement  to  some  other 
Simpkins  as  warms  the  mind  into  energetic  action,  and 
the  heart  into  generous  dealing. 

Most  of  our  minds  and  hearts  are  like  some  "  foreign  " 
flowers — foreign  because  we  haven't  cidtivated  them — 
that  require  the-hot  bed  of  "  circumstances  adverse  "  to 
draw  forth   their  beauties   and   sweetness.      Whatever 


160  Mashed  Potatoes. 

there  are  of  "  buty  "  in  myself,  "  wees-dum  "  in  my 
sayings,  or  kindness  in  my  actions,  I  am  ready  and 
anxious  to  give  due  credit  to  whatever  generous  supply 
of  mashed  potatoes  I  have  heretofore  been  the  recipient — 
either  those  that  my  grocer  has  "given"  me  on  due 
"  credit,"  or  friends  or  strangers  have  supplied  me  with. 
If  my  actions,  spoken  by  words,  don't  seem  kind  to 
some,  maybe  that  what  they  have  "  taken  to  themselves, 
as  meant  for  them,was  intended  for  the  benefit  of  others." 
(Nevertheless,  an  author  is  not  natural  (like  nature)  that 
refuses,  for  opinion's  sake,  to  speak  up  for  some  from  the 
"  fear  of  offending  others")  One  that  fears  to  get  scratched 
won't  pluck  many,  very  many  roses,  nor  he  that  "  fears 
a  kicking  "  court  many  pretty  girls.  Nettle  bushes  and 
kicking  mules  'tain't  best  to  handle  much.  Nettle 
bushes  are  about  the  only  thing  I  would  care  to  handle 
with  gloves,  and  then  but  lightly.  Kicking  mules  or 
heifers  it  "  wan't  the  custom  of  our  family "  either  to 
handle  much  or  mix  with — with  gloves  or  without ;  for 
if  there  were  any  on  our  farms  we  usually  hired  some 
country  politician  to  drive  them  to  a  butcher  for  the 
sake  of  the  skin.  It  were  a  good  job  for  the  politician 
at  that,  for  he  really  never  got  anything  else  for  his 
work  but  the  "skinnings  for  his  pains  ;"  and  "  as  for  the 
danger  that  didn't  matter,"  as  he  might  get  his  head 
"  busted "  next  election  day.  I  have  seemed  to  notice 
that  not  many  politicians  fail  in  either  getting  the  head 
bust  (or  the  "  bust-head  ") — if  they  pay  close  attention  to 
"  saluting  "  their  friends  (?)  across  the  table  of  a  bar  at 
a  country  grocery — on  'lection  day. 

Potatoes,  well   heated   thro'  with  "  sum "  hot  water, 
well    mashed   with   "  sum "  pestle,    well   anointed   with 


Mashed  Potatoes.  161 

"  sum  "  extract  of  cows'  milk,  and .  well  sprinkled  with 
"  sum  "  black  (not  cayenne,  if  you  please)  pepper  and 
"  sum  "  fine  salt,  are  a  mighty  good  dish  "  for  any  one  to 
discuss  over,"  and  in  our  family  have  been  admired  for 
their  honest  comeliness  "  for  as  far  back  as  /  can  recol- 
lect," or  most  of  my  ancestors  for  that  matter.  Potatoes 
ain't  "  quite  so  purty  "  as  an  apple  or  peach,  maybe,  but 
(when  well  cooked)  are  much  more  interesting  to  the 
stomach. 

Raw  potato,  like  raw  dog,  ain't  either  good  for  to  (e) 
bite,  or  be  bitten  by.  I  have  heard  it  are  good  for 
rheumatism,  tho'.  I  seem  to  know  it  are  best  (like  man) 
when  it  are  mashed  by  the  pestle  (of  adversity). 

Their  skin  is  tender  as  an  infant,  and  their  heart  is  full 
of  sympathy  as  a  wise  old  man.  Like  a  good  man,  they 
are  gotten  up  by  nature  for  the  benefit  of  the  race ;  and, 
like  the  most  virtuous  men,  the  best  grow  next  to  the 
biggest  dung-hills.  I  have  almost  always  noticed  that 
howsumever  muchly  I  never  fancied  pepper  and  salt, 
"  right  just  so,"  as  a  steady  diet,  yet  I  always  hankered 
after  a  little  of  them  to  be  mixed  in  with  my  other  food 
— not  so  plentifully  as  by  the  handful,  like  as  to  a  tract 
connoisseur  distributing  tracts,  but  gently,  like  unto  some 
deeds  of  charity  from  some  poor,  half-starved  laborer. 

Mashed  potatoes  have  in  them  the  essence  of  kow,  the 
extract  of  much  dirty  dirt,  the  vivacity  of  some  pepper, 
the  saving  quality  of  some  salt,  i.  e.,  if  properly  attended 
to  by  Nature  and  some  intelligent  Sally  Jane.  The  dirt 
in  their  composition  makes  the  man,  altho'  "folks" 
don't  want  to  own  it. 

If  a  man's  mental  and  physical  composition  partakes 
of  mashed  potatoes,  as  naturally  as  the  family  of  Your's 


1 62  Mashed  Potatoes. 

Serenely  does,  why  then  I  seem  to  know  why  such 
hearty-handed,  whole-souled  kind  of  beings,  that  I  recol- 
lect of,  have  a  hankering  after  some  of  which.  "  Sum  " 
men  hanker  after  "  hash  " — as  it  now  is — as  naturally  as 
a  "  rantankerous  ox  "  does  after  "  sum  "  unforbidden  tur- 
nip patch ;  but  they  are  a  kind  of  worm-eaten,  sour,  un- 
forbidding,  dyspeptic-looking,  greedy-cur  kind  of  men, 
that  it  ain't  well  to  delight  much  in  the  society  of.  / 
never  could. 

In  speaking  of  hash-eaters  of  this  kind,  Z,  of  course, 
mean  that  rusty  beef,  old  rubber,  half-chicken-half-egg 
kind  of  hash,  that  is  up  for  general  distribution  among 
lunch-swilling  nickel-grabbers,  constitutes  the  kind  of 
hash  that  they  admire.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  any  man 
that  could  enjoy  that  hind  of  hash  will  have  a  worship 
for  man  and  money,  or  even  steal  the  milk  from  a  blind 
calf?  and  still  believe  in  heaven  (wherever  that  is)  as  a 
place  of  rest  from,  and  on  account  of,  his  extra-pious 
exertions  ?  Tell  me.  I  don't  know.  I  have  known  (?) 
some  men  who  make  regular  discussions  on  the  subject 
of  chicken  or  young  heef  hash,  who  are  as  systematically 
built,  and  surely  intended  for  gentlemen,  as  those  who, 
like  Jonas,    believe  in  the  sentiment  expressed  in  the 

ditty  of 

Two  potatoes  and  a  dram, 

Make  "sum"  white-folks  "gemplernan." 

But  I  don't  believe  that  any  one  usually  partook  of 
"  raw-hide  "  hash,  as  a  favorite  dish,  that  "  ever  were 
fit  for  anything "  but  directors  of  some  fashionable 
church,  "  chaplain  for  some  base-ball  club "  (ask  your 
pardin,  Mr.  Mark  Twain,  for  taking  your  words  from 
you,   but  they  are  quoted),  or  passers-around  of  some 


Mashed  Potatoes.  163 

beaver-liat  for  the  reception  of  something  for  the  mission 
cause  ;  and  I  will  say,  for  the  benefit  of  those  that  fill 
those  positions,  that  maybe  not  for  that. 

Mashed  potatoes  are  "  a  purely  vegetable  diet,"  and, 
consequently,  healthful,  exhilarating,  sympathy-inspir- 
ing, and  mirthful — the  mother  of  wit,  chastity,  and 
mercy,  and  the  father  of  valor,  generosity,  and  justice — 
and,  like  w.ell-distilled  sorrows,  are  "  mighty  good  to 
have  about  the  house."  I  have  believed  myself  cor- 
rectly informed  as  to  some  persons,  old  and  young,  rich 
and  poor,  that  have  disgusted  their  stomach  to  nausea 
with  too  much  and  eager  perusal  of  cold  snaps,  sweet 
cake,  biled  cabbage,  "  sum  "  pie,  and  so  forth ;  but  I've 
yet  to  learn  of  one  person  who  has  ever  been  surfeited 
with  too  much  mashed  potatoes — when  the  stomach  is 
full  you  are  apt  to  be  satisfied. 

Sum  f-o-l-k-s,  h-i-g-h-f-a-1-u-tin  f-o-l-k-s,  "don't  like 
mashed  potatoes  ^<?ms-e-l-v-e-s."  "  They'll  may-be  do  for 
poor  folks  to  eat,"  they  say.  That  class  of  men  might 
do  for  a  side-show  to  a  sickly  monkey  of  an  impecunious 
Italian  grinder  of  a  worn-out  organ,  but  that's  all — even 
then  I  should  feel  like  hiring,  with  the  bribe  of  a  sour 
persimmon,  some  attendant  urchin  to  shed  "  sum  "  tears 
for  the  misfortunes  of  that  monkey  ;  and  that  ain't  say- 
ing that  I  ain't  for  paying  good  wages  either,  for  the  tears 
shed  in  such  a  cause  would  likely  be  wasted  as  long  as  the 
monkey  allowed  such  associations  to  linger  around  him. 

P.  S. — Sally  Jane,  and  yours  serenely,  have  made  up 
their  minds  (nigh  about)  that  as  we  expect  (the  good 
Discriminator  keeping  off  the  mumps,  measles,  small- 
pox, bad  colds,  and  all  the  other  derangements  of  life)  to 
raise  up  lovely  daughters  and  sons  unto  our  very  old  age, 


164  Mashed  Potatoes. 

so  to  bespread  their  pathway  with  much  mashed  potato — 
and  to  instil  into  their  minds  the  beauties  of  a  well-de- 
veloped potato  crop — that  they  shall  like  potatoes  as 
they  do  themselves.  Our  opinion  has  always  (?)  been 
that  if  her  (his,  or  its)  Britannic  Majesty  had  imported 
into  the  country  of  the  Emmetts,  the  O'Connells,  the 
O'Burkes,  and  the  O'Sullivans — "Erin's  green  isle" — a 
few  more  mashed  potatoes,  that  fewer  kicks  and  distraints 
would  have  been  demanded  (?)  ;  that  there  would  have 
been  less  expense  heretofore,  now  or  hereafter,  sustained 
by  her  in  exporting  the  enfeebled  Irish,  be-mashed  Eng- 
lishmen (and  I  think  that  mashing  process  has  made  the 
Englishmen  more  enjoyable),  and  "  sum  "  hearty  haters 
that  England  has  to-day;  and  that,  instead  of  having  the 
name  of  Great  Britain  besmeared  all  over  with  hatred 
and  disgust,  the  Irish  and  the  world  would  rise  up  to  do 
it  honor.  Ireland  aint  the  only  sufferer  from  potato  rot. 
The  whole  world  has  been  injured  thereby.  How?  I 
might  tell  you,  but  not  now. 

Some  people  "  can't  get  down  to  the  gist  of  a  thing," 
but  are  always  looking  to  the  skies,  which  they  can't 
reach,  for  something  that's  right  under  the  toe  of  their 
"  left  hindfoot ;"  consequently  England,  like  many  another 
over-wise  man  (in  a  smaller  way),  has  sown  more  laws  and 
judges  than  potatoes  in  "  poor  Ireland,"  and  hence  has 
reaped  more  curses  than  good-will,  more  unpaid  collect- 
ors (?)  than  breadstuff's. 

Mashed  potatoes  (we  tell  you)  are  the  true  essence  of 
strength,  beauty,  health,  order,  virtue,  and  happiness. 

N.  B. — "  Double  health  I  drink  to  thee,"  p-o-t-a-to — 
more  often  than  I  do  to  the  (thee)  "  Tom  Moore  " — altho' 
I  like  Tom  pretty  well,  sure. 


"DOIJSTG  TWO  THINGS  AT   ONCE," 


There  are  but  few,  if  any,  persons,  to  whose  eloquence 
I  have  ever  listened,  of  whom  I've  ever  read,  whose 
smelling  capacity  I  have  ever  known,  or  whose  hand  I 
have  ever  shaken,  that  could,  fully  to  the  satisfaction  of 
themselves  and  their  many  friends,  perform  that  feat  of 
"  ground  and  lofty  tumbling,"  described  by  the  phrase, 
"  doing  two  things  at  onct." 

Ccesar  is  said  to  have  been  able  to  do  it,  but  "  Ccesar 
met  his  Brutus."  Napoleon  the  Onct  is  believed  to 
have  partly  succeeded  ;  but  Josephine  shed  copious  tears 
of  heart-sorrow  at  his  faithlessness,  and  St.  Helena  can 
bear  testimony  to  his  failure.  Benedict  Arnold  imagined 
he  had  the  faculty  in  full ;  but  his  very  virtues  are  now 
a  stench  and  a  reproach.  Martin  Van  Buren  supposed  he 
could  do  it  scientifically — if  he  did,  his  name  is  in  con- 
sequence a  by-word,  and  "  little  Van  "  a  synonym  of  van- 
ity and  disgust. 

But  there  are  a  few  (?)  persons  that  try  to  accomplish 
this  back-banded  feat,  but  (unless  driven  to  it  by  dire  ne- 
cessity) I  don't  hanker  muchly  after  "an  acquaintance 
very  intimate."  These.very  smart  people  and  the  Simp- 
kins  family  "  never  did  get  along  well  together — so  my 
forefathers  said,  and  your  Uncle  Jonas  has  proven — to 
their  satisfaction  at  least. 


1 66  "  Doing  Two  Things  at  Once." 

This  trying  to  ride  "  two  horses  at  onct,"  may  do  for  a 
circus-rider  that  has  some  muscle ;  or  a  circuit-rider  that 
has  "sum  tracts"  (of  various  kinds);  or  "sum"  politi- 
cian that  wants  some  position  in  some  well-fed  govern- 
ment office;  or  "sum"  darned  fool  that  don't  know 
what  he  wants  or  needs ;  but  it  ain't  "  exactly  the  thing," 
for  a  well-organized  man,  who  desires  generally  to  keep 
both  legs  under  him,  to  undertake. 

This  "  carrying  water  on  both  shoulders  "  may  be  a 
good  balancer,  but  I  should  seem  to  think  it  were 
"  m-o-n-st-rous "  wearing  both  to  the  shoulders  and 
the  conscience. 

"  Sum  "  men  wear  a  pad,  like  as  to  what  a  brigadier 
wears  on  his  shoulder,  or  we  little  ones  used  to  have  on 
our  pants  behind — to  prevent  wear,  you  know  (?)  of 
course, — and  "  sum  "  men's  consciences  are  "  like  India 
rubber,"  stretching  and  rebounding  to  an  extreme. 

It  don't  seem  to  a  disinterested  woodsawyer  that  a 
strictly  moral  person  could  respect  himself  and  some- 
body else's  money  at  the  same  time,  or  could  "  dissem- 
ble "  about  the  depth  of  a  glazed  mud  plate  or  the  width 
of  "  sum "  jeans  and  pretend  at  the  same  time  to  be 
strictly  orthodox  (does  that  mean  honest  ?). 

A  friend  says,  "  they  can't."  May  be  he  knows.  I  don't. 

There  are  "  sum  folks "  (so-said)  as  know  about 
several  things  thoroughly,  and  spout  on  several 
subjects  intelligently — can  handle  several  kinds  of  tools 
"right  off  at  once,"  and  to  advantage;  but  I've  about 
"  kum  to  the  konclusion  "  that  those  that  could  reason- 
ably expect  to  succeed  in  doing  them  things  all  at  once, 
and  the  same  time,  were  very  rare — about  as  "rare"  as 
a  well-cooked  beefsteak. 


"Doing  Two  Tilings  at  Once"  167 

Kow  I  always  preferred  a  well-stuffed  turkey  to  any 
of  your  rara-avis  kind  of  birds,  for  silent  contemplation 
and  discriminate  discussion  of  the  merits  of  "  sum  ''  of 
which. 

Some  men  claim  to  have  an  intimate  knowledge  of 
chemistry,  philosophy,  nature,  religion,  and  politics — and 
"what  they  don't  know  ain't  worth  knowing"  (their 
actions  say) — but  I'll  take  my  asseveration  (so-called),  and 
that  on  an  elementary  spelling  book,  or  a  bible  either 
(so-called),  that  I  don't  seem  to  believe  they  can  build  a 
swallow's  nest,  or  an  ant's  (not  aunt's)  house,  or  tell 
how  it  were  with  Adam  when  he  were  a  little  boy. 

Some  women  can  fry  a  turnover  and  sing  a  little  song 
at  the  same  time,  but  it  are  difficult :  and  altho'  it  looks 
as  simple  as  counting  (?)  2  +  2=4  correctly,  yet  there 
ain't  many  men  that  can  do  it. 

To  fry  a  turnover  correctly,  and  sing  well  at  the  same 
time,  would  seem  to  consist  in  watching  "  sum  "  turnover 
loliile  you  sing.  "  Sum  folks  "  would  slap  "  sum  "  turn- 
over in  somegrease  to  "  rest  there"  while  they  w-a-r-b-1-e-d, 
and  they'd  put  two  two's  down  so  that  when  added  up 

they  would  appear  as  22  instead  of  4  (viz.:  |-^  instead  of  f ). 

(The  above  figuring  isn't  done  to  please  (?)  "  sum  " 
scientific  figurers,  but  because  it's  a  "  matter  of  fact.") 

"  There  are  a  good  deal  in  the  knowing  how  "  as  to  this 
turnover  business,  as  there  is  as  to  anything  else,  and 
"  the  knowing  how  "  is  more  to  be  discovered  by  practice 
than  through  the  imagination  ;  and  the  being  thoroughly 
practical  consists  in  "  watching  what  you're  about." 

Some  men  say  that  they  can  build  a  steamboat  while 
they  "  indite  a  ditty,"  or  drive  4  in  hand  while  they 
"  take  sum   beer ;  "  but  according  to  my  best  informa- 


1 68  "Doing  Two  Tilings  at  Once." 

tion,  good  steamboat-builders  and  hack-drivers  can't  do 
it,  or  they  say  they  can't — and  they  believe  that  those 
who  say  they  can  cant. 

Some  employers  seem  (?)  to  imagine  that  their 
"  hands  "  "  can  "  do  two  things  at  once,"  viz.:  shovel 
coal  and  keep  books,  sell  goods  and  wash  the  windows ; 
but  the  best  coal-heavers  and  book-keepers,  window- 
scrubbers  and  salesmen  say  "  it  can't  well  be  did." 

Some  hired  folks  say  "  they'd  rather  do  two  things 
at  once  than  one  thing  twice."  I  don't  think  they  can 
understand  that  the  former  movement  may,  like  a 
double-acting  engine,  produce  the  latter  movement. 

I  have  seen  some  boys  as  tried  to  suck  candy  and 
whistle,  or  make  little  houses  on  their  slate  while  they 
figure  out  their  arithmetic  lesson- — at  the  same  time. 

I  have  observed  "growner  boys"  trying  to  smoke 
two  segars  (one  on  each  side  of  their  mouth  (?)  )  and 
beat  a  little  drum  to  the  same  tune,  or  in  the  same  inter- 
val. 

I  have  "sighted"  some  "older  ones"  trying  "to 
look  at  two  gals  at  once" — quoting  some  poetry  to 
each. 

I  have  seemed  to  observe  some  40-year-old  chaps  try- 
ing to  "do  a  successful  business  "  in  the  "mammoth" 
crockery  line,  and  at  the  same  time  peddling  "  liglit 
oils  " — or  tending  church  and  talking  politics.  I  have 
seemed  to  know  some  60-yr.-"  olders  "  that  tried  to  tell 
a  yarn  and  smoke  a  pipe  at  the  same  time. 

But  of  all  these  I  know  but  "  phew,"  very  "  phew," 
to  be  "  eminently  successful,"  even  if  they  were  "  emi- 
nently christian"  gentlemen.  (That  was  a  good  one, 
and  all  right,  Johnny — for  "  Dexter  "  means  right.) 


"Doing  Two  Tilings  at  Once"  169 

I  have  heard  of  some  doctors  who  physicked  two  pa- 
tients of  different  diseases,  with  the  same  kind  of 
"  made-i-sin  "  at  the  same  time — some  lawyers  that 
took  fees  from  his  client,  and  the  other  lawyer's  client, 
at  the  same  hour — some  preachers  that  expounded  a 
text  in  2  diverse  ways  in  the  same  two  hours — some 
chemists  that  would  swear  that  their  hitters  were  com- 
pounded "  without  whiskey  "  on  one  minute  and  but 
"  with  very  little  "  in  the  next — some  farmers  "  that 
would  try  to  run  a  blacksmith  shop  "  and  a  farm  (all  by 
themselves  like)  at  onct — some  merchants  that  thought 
they  could  eat  peanuts,  and  "  talk  goods  to  a  man,"  at 
the  same  time  ;  but  I  never  was  able  to  discover  that 
any  ever  grew  rich  at  it,  or  if  so,  that  the  "  rich  "  re- 
mained in  their  family  long — no  !  not  long  enough  for 
the  delivery  of  a  good-sized  snarl  by  an  hungry  cur,  and 
I've  heard  that  this  kind  of  cur  can  get  up  a  snarl 
"  monstrous  quick."  Some  body  else  (generally)  has  to 
bury  them. 

Sally  Jane  has  told  me  that  she  has  observed  some 
hired  girls  attempt  to  cook,  wash,  and  read  some  sen- 
sational newspaper,  at  the  same  time — but  she  didn't 
need  them,  nor  didn't  intend  that  they  should  kneed  for 
her ;  and,  in  fact,  I  am  thinking  that  an  intellectual 
housegirl,  that  gives  more  of  her  time  to  poetry  than 
scrubbing,  were  a  nuisance,  and  needed  some  little 
"kneeding"  herself.  (This  ain't  saying  but  what  any  and 
all  kind  of  girls  should  have  time  allotted  them  to 
read — in  fact,  I  think  they  had.)  I  have  heard  of 
some  book-keepers  that  could  add  up  two  columns  ot 
figures  at  once — and  "  them  columns  as  long  as  your 
arm" — while  they  recited  to  an  admiring  audience  the 


170  "  Doing  Two  Things  at  Once." 

little  history  of  a  Christopher  Columbus:  but  I've  al- 
ways believed  that  that  history  wouldn't  be  worthy  quot- 
ing much. 

I  have  hearn  of  some  salesmen  that  would  represent  to 
the  customers  the  quality  of  their  goods  as  "  extra  fine," 
and  yet,  after  receiving  an  order  for  their  wares,  fill  (?)  by 
sending  from  the  house  a  very  ordinary  brand.  "  What 
their  goods  lacked  in  quality  they  could  make  up  in  " 
—lying. 

"  Sum  "  employers  seem  to  like  that  kind  of  salesman, 
"  as  then  they  don't  have  to  cany  a  heavy  stock  "  (of  any- 
thing but  lies).  They  imagine  that  "  that  hind  of  stock 
costs  nothing  " — the  lie-stock,  I  mean. 

In  the  course  of  a  varied  life,  your  Uncle  Jonas  has 
been  consummate  fool  enough  to  sometimes  "  try  and  do 
two  things  at  once ;"  and,  when  he  first  began,  imagined 
//////  it  cere  just  as  easy  to  do  said  two  things  at  once,  as 
one  said  tiling  at  two  "  several "  times : — but  he  hopes 
that  lie  need  not  say  that  he's  trying  darned  hard  to  for- 
get that  quondam  folly. 

P.  S. — When  a  very  small  boy,  I  recollect  that,  at  a 
party  of  young  children  at  our  house,  I  attempted,  while 
we  were  playing  games,  to  show  my  smartness  by  hoist- 
ing a  lighted  candle,  in  its  stick,  to  the  top  of  a  large 
globe  lamp,  in  front  of  a  large  mirror  nearly  covered  with 
green  baize. 

By  the  aid  of  a  chair  I  ultimately  succeeded  in  "  mak- 
ing the  point,"  and  was  consequently  much  pleased  when 
I  had  achieved  my  desires — so  much  so  that  I  grinned 
aloud. 

[I  could  have  undoubtedly  (?)  clone  very  well  if 
I  hadn't  grinned   so   loud,   and,   in   trying   to    "  bring 


"Doing  Two  Tilings  at  Once."  171 

down  the  house  "  with  appreciative  applause,  turned  my 
head.  And  hy-the-bye  this  "  turned  head "  disease  I 
found  of  general  complaint  when  I  "grew  to  manhood's 
stature."  My  previously  short  practice  in  the  "  double 
trick  "  trade  was  the  undisputable  cause  of  my  short- 
lived triumph.]     But  to  "move  a-head." 

My  little  candle  set  lire  to  the  baize,  and  had  it  not  have 
been  for  an  elder  sister  who,  wondering  at,  more  than  ad- 
miring my  broad  smile,  brought  to  my  rescue  herself — 
armed  with  a  pair  of  bellows,  with  which  she  extinguished 
the  flame  to  the  somewhat  danger  of  that  mirror — the 
house  would  have  surely  been  "brought  down  ; "  but  I  am 
afraid  to  think,  even  to  this  day,  of  the  kind  of  applause 
I  might  have  been  the  (on)happy  recipient  of.  This 
trying  to  hold  a  lighted  candle — on  a  brazen  stick — high 
up,  and  smiling  afar-off  at  the  same  time,  ain't  so 
encouraging  "after  awhile"  as  it  is  at  the  (present) 
time  being — if  even  then.  The  "noise  of  the  conflict" 
brought  down  my  mother  "from  above  stairs,"  unto 
whom  the  disaster  was  explained,  and  I  was  bead  a 
lecture,  about  "  Doing  two  things  at  onct,"  which 
"  I  am  constrained  to  say  "  I  don't  yet  think  I've  forgot. 
My  paternal  parent  didn't  learn  the  cause  of  my  red 
eyes  directly — but  from  my  mother — and  hence  I  was 
likely  saved  the  hearing  of  two  lectures  at  onct,  which 
would  have  been  a  good  deal  more  than  a  young  feller 
of  my  age  would  have  hankered  after  (especially  unless 
they  were  better  than,  and  of  a  different  kind  from,  what 
I  heard  then,  or  have  "  yawed  "  at  since). 

I  imagined  that  I  learned  some  lessons  by  this  occur- 
rence, and  that  they  have  remained  by  me  ever  since. 
And  I  advise  others,  as  follows,  viz. : 


i/2  " Doing  Two  Tilings  at  Once." 

1st.  Not  to  let  litle  boys  play  with  lights,  nor  play 
smart.  If  there  is  any  playing  "  smart "  to  be  done, 
the  parent  should  do  the  playing  and  leave  the  lad 
to  the  feeling.  But  let  the  father  or  mother  "  not  play 
roughly." 

2d.  To  thank  God  for  sisters ;  and  not  to  despise 
even  a  bellows — which,  by-the-bye,  to  this  day,  I  admire 
more  as  a  blowing  machine  than  I  do  lungs,  or  a  tin 
trumpet. 

3d.  Not  to  bet  too  much  on  being  applauded  for  what 
you  may  imagine  to  be  smart. 

4th.  To  recollect  that  green-baized  mirrors  ain't  the 
best  things  to  play  circus  before — nor  "  sum  "  small  chil- 
dren the  best  audience. 

"Jonas  Simpkins  were  always  a  young  fool,"  and 
I  can't  positively  say  that  in  his  old  age  he  has  "  im- 
proved on  it,"  but  I  have  the  dreary  consolation  of 
seeming  to  know  that  my  companions  are  numerous — 
so-called. 


"  EYERY  MAN  IS  MY  BROTHER,  AID 
I  CAN  CLAIM  HIS  CONNECTION" 
MORE  ON  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  YIOES 

THAN  HIS  VIRTTJES.'W<wA  Billings  {re- 
mark). 


"  Dear  Josh  :  " — Did  you  not  say  something  like  that, 
once,  Josh  ?  I  thought  you  did ;  and  if  so,  hold  on  to 
the  fathering  of  it,  like  "  grim  death  to  a  dead  African," 
for  by  hokys  it's  the  sublimest  saying  on  record,  and  I'd 
rather  be  the  "  dad  of  it "  than  to  be  President  (?)  or 
even  Jonas  Simpkins. 

Not,  Josh,  that  you  should  have  all  the  credit  of  this, 
for  nature  has  taught  the  same  to  some  of  her  children 
for  ages  agone,  but  that  you  should  be  received  "  where'er 
thou  goest,"  with  all  the  warmth  of  the  warmest  heart, 
for  giving  vent  to  your  own  feelings  to  the  revivifying 
of  the  rest  of  mankind  with  "  sum  "  of  which.  There's 
lots  of  folks,  by  whom  I  have  been  asked  to  "  take 
something,"  that  always  claim  mankind  as  their  brother 
(for  being  religious  (?)  men,  they  could  not  help  that),  but 
they  never  said  he  were  their  brother  "  more  on  account 
of  their  vices  than  their  virtues."  "  There's  whar  you 
hit  me,"  Josh.  Then's  when  you  took  the  "  dilapidated 
linen  off  the  shrubbery,"  and  mU,de  a  dish-towel  of  it 
to  wipe  thy  care-worn  face  with.  That's  the  why  the 
rag  art  thine,  and  mankind  are  indebted  to  you.  Then's 
when  you  attempted  to  light  your  pipe  in  face  of  a  gale 


174  " Every  Man  is  my  Brother" 

of  "pie-us  "  prejudice,  and  then's  when  you  succeeded  ; 
and  it's  the  why  that  you  can  now  smoke  your  pipe  in 
peace  without  any  dread  of  a  failure  in  the  supply  of  to- 
bacco wherewith  to  "  till  up  again  with."  With  all  men 
as  thy  brother,  none  dare  but  praise  thee,  Josh !  and  as 
thou  hast  shown  that  thou  art  a  lover  of  old  rye  and  be- 
nevolence, mashed  potatoes  and  generosity,  mankind  and 
his  Maker,  so  wilt  thou  be  happy.  Cicero  nor  Demos- 
thenes could  not  have  uttered.  Socrates  nor  Plato,  nor 
Paul  (whom  some  swear  by)  could  not  have  expounded. 
Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,  nor  Milton's  Paradise  Lost, 
do  not  show  in  their  pages  (which  are  quoted  much  by 
some).  Bacon  or  Locke,  did  not  utilize  any  truer  phil- 
osophy than  that  truth:-  "Every  man  is  my  brother, 
*  *  *  *  more  on  account  of  his  vices  than  his  vir- 
tues "  has,  doth,  and  will  proclaim. 

It  is  a  language  that's  spoken  better  with  a  glance  of 
the  eye  or  a  shake  of  the  hand,  than  by  plenteous  whi- 
ning words  thro'  mouth  or  nose.  It  embodies  not  only 
the  best  philosophy  but  also  the  truest  political  econo- 
my, as  from  that  principle  do  all  generous  actions,  all 
kind  motives  spring.  ("  If  the  worthy  man  loves  me,  I 
will  try  and  improve,  so  that  he  will  respect  me."  "  If 
my  brother  errs,  I  will  try  and  encourage  him,  so  that 
lie  may  rise  above  his  faults."  Thus  say  men  that  are 
wise  and  good,  and  most  all  are  somewhat  so.)  Political 
economy  is  better  observed  by  doing  good  at  home  than 
conquering  foes  abroad,  or  uprooting  evils  at  home  than 
doing  much  missionary  work  abroad ;  just  as  ordinary 
family  economy  is  better  observed  by  trudging  a  mile  on 
"foot-back"  to  pursue  your  daily  duties,  than  to  buy  a 
line  horse  and  phaeton  buggy  on  credit,  with  the  expec- 


"  Every  Man  is  my  Bj-otlicrT  175 

tation  of  feeding  that  horse  on  some  neighbor's  grass- 
plot.  I  always  "  hankered  after"  a  sight  of  you.  Josh  ! 
ever  since  Sally  Jane  procured  one  of  your  "  allmanax  " 
to  learn  how  to  wash  by.  The  "jokes"  made  my 
"  mashed  potatoes  "  digest  extraordinarily  well,  and  hence 
"  I  am  what  I  am  ;"  and  when  you  were  to  lecture  once 

in  the  city  of where  I  now  live,  abide,  continue,  etc., 

I  determined,  if  other  bores  would  give  me. "sum" 
passage,  I'd  see  you  or  "  bust,"  and  mostly  on  account 
of  that  saying  :  "  Every  man  is  my  brother  *  *  * 
*  *  *  more  on  account  of  his  vices  than  his  virtues." 
(You  didn't  say  a  monkey  was  man's  brother,  even  if  men 
and  monkeys  were  in  the  Ark  together,  and  I  don't  really 
think  that  you  ought  to  have  done  so.)  "  I  went,  I  saw, 
and  {you)  conquered." 

When  thro'  the  kindness  of  Mr. ,  whose  name  I 

here  embalm  (?)  more  on  account  of  his  kindness  than 
because  he  wears  spectacles,  I  was  escorted  (?)  up  to  your 
room  No.  18  (12  X 15  apartment,  or  "  sum  "  sich)  in  tow  of 
a  little  negro,  I  did  not  expect  to  see  a  man  of  your  ap- 
pearance. 

Tour  long  hair  enchained  the  humorous  muse;  on  thy 
placid  brow  was  enthroned  intelligence ;  in  thine  eyes 
beamed  benevolence;  thy  lips  could  be  wreathed  with  a 
smile  for  the  sad,  and  utter  kind  words  for  the  suffering  ; 
and  in  thy  slow  but  steady  movements  were  visible  an 
apparently  active  interest  in  the  toils  and  trials  of 
others. 

My  short  converse  with  you  showed  me  that  thou 
couldst  teach  by  silence  that  it  were  more  an  honor  "  to 
be  a  good  listener  than  a  much  talker,"  but  when  thou 
spakest,  thy  words  were  golden,  and  therefrom  an  aroma 


1^6  ''  livery  Man  is  my'  Br  oilier." 

"  sweeter  than  the  halm  of  a  thousand  flowers"  might 
he  distilled. 

"  Thou  art  not  as  beautiful  as  a  5th  ave.  dandy,  but 
thou  art  good."  I  went  to  thy  ".  lecture,"  Josh,  and, 
"  baring "  the  library  committee,  that  snickered  when 
none  wished  to  "laff"  and  looked  grimly  serene  when 
the  "outsiders"  wished  to  "split  their  sides,"  "it  went 
off  well ;  "  but  I  wouldn't  have  given  one  minute  of  my 
hour  with  you  for  several  of  them.  For  as  intelligent 
conversation  is  better  than  stage  display,  so  is  an  acquaint- 
ance with  "  Shaw  "  better  than  a  "  nod  "  at  "  Billings." 
Nor  is  this  any  deterioration  of  your  character  as  a  "  lec- 
turer," or  a  man ;  for  to  be  humorous,  intelligent,  and 
kind  at  home,  requires  more  "  display  of  brain  and  heart," 
than  when,  after  some  study,  the  "  stage  welcomes  you." 

If  there  were  one  "  I'd  like  to  be  social  with,"  besides 
myself,  Sally  Jane — my  wife — my  intimate  kin,  and  poor 
relations  (which  are  many),  and  "  dear  friends  "  (which 
are  few),  I  am  inclined  to  imagine  I'd  much  prefer  it 
were  you. 

Now  it  may  not  do  to  knock  a  man  down  and,  while 
"  stomping  him,  "  claim  that  you  did  it  as  a  "  man  and 
a  brother  " — in  fact  I  don't  think  it  would  pay,  especially 
it'  that  man  had  any  large-sized  kin  folks  lying  close 
around  loose;  but  I  do  think  according  to  the  order  of 
nature,  even  as  embodied  in  your  words,  that  he  might 
be  entitled  to  address  himself  unto  you,  Josh,  in  a  pri- 
vate room  (if  you  weren't  washing  yourself)  on  a  private 
subject  (if  it  weren't  witchcraft),  to  gain  some  private 
wisdom  (that  don't  concern  others).  That  was  my 
reason  for  "  appearing  before  you,"  behind  the  heels  of 
that  little  son  of  some  descendants  of  oppressed  emi- 


"  Every  Man  is  my  Brother."  177 

grants  from  Afric's  sunny  isle,  and  if  you  didn't  fancy  it 
let  your  next  lecture  (in  private)  tell  the  why  (not)  for 
which.  I  like  you,  Josh,  more  and  more  every  day,  be- 
cause I  find  really  honest  men  becoming  scarcer  every 
day,  I  suppose.  (This  don't  signify  that  the  crop  of 
"  thieves  proper  "  are  any  larger  than  it  ever  were, — in 
fact  I  don't  believe  it  are  so  large ;  but  that  other  pur- 
suits have  swallowed  some  of  them  up,  or  down,  which- 
ever is  right  ;--but  that  the  class  of  men  "  that  appropriate 
a  goose,  and  give  the  giblets  away  in  alms  "  to  lather 
their  guilty  conscience  with,  have  immeasurably,  unde- 
niably increased  monstrously.)  I  know  its  not  consi- 
dered much  honor  for  a  "  worn-out "  wood-sawyer  (that's 
hunting  a  job)  to  like  anybody,  "  but  I  can't  help  it "  as 
to  "  some." 

If  you  don't  like  such  likings,  just  recollect  "  that  you 
have  to  grin  and  bear  it "  (and  don't  never  confess  it), 
"  putting  it  down  to  your  bad  luck ;  "  either  hoping  that 
"  nature  will  compensate  "  by  giving  you  a  pet  poodle 
or  Broadway  swell  to  fondle  over,  or  "  trusting  for  your 
future  reward  (?) "  in  that  world  where  there  are  more 
humorists  that  preachers,  more  yaller  dogs  than  "  patent " 
christians. 

Everything  sectarian  has  an  air  of  heaven  about  it 
that  to  most  of  folks  is  perfectly  irresistible ;  and  I 
have  known  "  darned  "  lies  (a  friend  says,  "  misrepre- 
sented facts,"  are  best  to  express  it  and  maybe  he  knows) 
from  "  patent  "  christian  lips  to  pass  current  for  "  God- 
like truths." 

Now  I  don't  afi'ect  sectarianism  any  more  than  I  do 
"  ill-cooked  crow, "  and  hence  my  hanker  after  anything 
that's  natural  and  humane. 


178  "  Every  Man  is  my  Brother." 

(It  ain't  natural  for  mankind  to  eat  crow,  nor  it 
ain't  humane  to  try  and  make  it  eat  'em.  It  ain't,  I 
golly.) 

Some  folks  hold  that  you  "musn't  dance  on  S-u-n- 
d-a-y ; "  but  if  a  portion  of  what  little  happiness  that  I 
may  expect  to  attain,  obtain,  or  retain  in  this  world 
cometh  to  me  for  a  gentle  caressing  on  a  S-u-n-d-a-y,  and. 
that,  on  account  of  a  receipt  of  that  happiness,  "  I  be 
joyful,''  I  can't  see  but  what  I  ought  to  have  the  privilege 
of  shaking  feebly  my  right  toe  a  little,  and  if  my  right 
toe  why  not  my  right  and  left  toe  (both  of  them),  and  if 
both  why  not  dance,  jump,  skip,  and  run  about  a  little 
(just  so  I  don't  knock  over  some  little  boy's  apple-cart, 
some  little  nurse's  baby  with  a  wagon  in  it,  or  wagon 
with  a  baby  in  it,  or  some  methodist  preacher,  or  some 
neighbor's  back  fence)  calmly  in  the  back -wood  shed 
like.  I  reckon  I  will,  if  lam  60  and  upwards.  You 
see  (?)  if  I  don't.  This  decision  is  entirely  independent 
of  the  precedent  set  by  David  of  dancing  on  feast  days 
and  holy  days  (for  he  danced  on  Sat-ur-day  they  say) . 
Blacking  your  boots  to  go  to  c-h-u-r-c-h  to  cut  a  swell  is 
all  right,  but  to  darken  one's  little  finger  in  some 
"sweeted  molasses,"  to  nurse  some  restless  baby  on,  is 
high  treason,  arson,  murder,  and  sacrilege  (as  to  sum 
folks).  Believing  you,  Josh,  to  have  received  your  diplo- 
ma from  nature  rather  than  art ;  that  you  love  a  man 
more  than  you  do  a  dog  (altho'  good  dog  sain't  a  bad  tiling 
to  love),  even  with  a  brass  collar  on — that  you  admire 
truth  more  than  poetry  (altho'  some  poetry  are  true) — 
that  you'd  "  go  your  stray  buttons  oftener  on  truth  than 
on  fiction,  in  the  long  run,  for  mans'  improvement, — I 
am,  or  want  to  subscribe  myself,  your  ("  very  dear ") 


"  Every  Man  is  my  Brother."  '  179 

friend  in   need  (and   hence  "  indeed ")  of  a   dram   of 
cordial, 

JONAS  SIMPKINS. 

P.  S. — There  are  a  great  many  good  men  that  belong 
to  some  church,  as  there  are  a  great  many  that  are  also 
good  that  don't  belong  to  any  church ;  and  its  not 
because  they  "  do  belong  to  the  church,"  or  "  don't  belong 
to  the  church,"  that  persons  may  make  or  are  good  men, 
but  because  they  can't  help  it.  It  comes  as  natural  to 
some  to  do  good  as  it  does  for  a  well-bred  sow  to  produce 
some  little  pigs,  or  a  roughly-clad  Simpkins  to  partake  of 
some  large  sized  masked  potatoes ;  and,  being  natural,  its 
just  as  beneficial.  Most  of  men  don't  seem  to  consider 
that  it's  a  well-regulated  stomach  that  makes  them  good 
and  kind,  for  they  want  to  imagine  that  it  are  the  head 
or  the  heart. 

(The  Bible  saith,  "  The  heart  of  man  is  deceitfully 
wicked,"  but  it  don't  say  anything  about  the  head  or  the 
stomach,  in  that  particular,  as  I  seem  to  remember ; 
altlio',  as  of  late  years  I  have  not  perused  it  any  more 
thoroughly  than  some  of  the  creed-worshippers  have,  I 
may  be  excused,  I  suppose,  if  I  don't  quote  correctly  or 
remember  all  that  I  ever  did  see  in  it.) 

Some  don't  "seem  to  know"  that  their  good  deeds  are 
the  result  of  well-digested  potatoes  more  than  well- 
thumbed  Bible. 

But  if  they  never  ate  "  any  potatoes  themselves  "  their 
father  must  have  done  so  before  them,  or  else  they  could 
never  have  been  what  they  are  now. 

There's  a  Mr. ,  a  tall  and  slender  man,  where  I 

once  lived,  who's  as  full  of  jokes  and  kind  actions  as  some 


i8o  "  Every  Man  is  my  Brother" 

good  old  rye  and  honey,  who  tried  to  help  a  wood-sawyer, 
and  if  his  trying  didn't  succeed  it  were  not  his  fault. 
May  he  be  happy  "just  the  same." 

It  ain't  the  success  ("  all  the  time  ")  that  showeth  us 
"  whar  to  find"  a  good  man.  It's  the  trying,  almost 
against  hope  sometimes,  that  makes  the  big-hearted  man, 
I've  seemed  to  learn.  (It's  sometimes  hard  to  find  out 
where  the  big-hearted  men  dwell ;  but  when  you  do  "it's 
pretty  good  times  for  a  while,"  i.  e.,  as  long  as  they  can 
help  you.  The  big-nEADED  man  can  be  found  at  any 
place  or  season  —  and,  without  pointing  out,  "he  shows 
himself.)  I'd  venture  something— not  much,  for  1  hain't 
got  much;  but  something,  nevertheless — that  the  big- 
hearted  man  "  dwells  "  largely  and  energetically  upon  the 
discussion  of  some  mashed  potatoes.  Sometimes,  perhaps, 
"  bekase  he  can't  get  anything  else  "  to  eat ;  but  mostly, 
because  they  make  him  "  big  strong  man."  (If /ain't  as 
big  and  strong  as  I  might  be,  it  ain't  that  I  don't  do  full 
justice  to  the  dish — when  I  can.  It  ain't — I  jing — nor  it 
ain't  the  potatoes'  fault,  either.)  Good  men,  tho',  are  as 
different  as  musicians  might  be:  One  an  organ-grinder, 
makes  the  air  "shiver"  with  the  groans  drawn  forth  by 
a  riekety-tickety  handle  from  a  worn-out,  wheezy  hand- 
organ  ;  and  his  success,  as  to  receipts,  is  commensurate 
with  the  "  moosic,"  a  feeble,  halt-reluctant  drop  (in  the 
box)  of  a  doleful  penny  from  the  clinched  fingers  of  an 
unartistic  paper-carrier. 

(But  these  little  peanut  venders,  boot-blacks,  and 
paper-carriers  have  "  a  soul  in  them  as  big  as  a  mule,"  if 
you  can  only  draw  it  out ;  but  hand-organ  music  ain't 
the  kind  to  draw  well.  They  do  better  than  "grown 
folks"  under  the  circumstances.) 


"  Every  Man  is  my  Brother ."  181 

Another,  a  violinist  solo,  from  his  violin,  produces 
such  music  as  causes  the  atmosphere  to  swell  with  the 
inflections  of  delighted  harmony,  under  the  charm  of 
its  symphonies,  and  extracts  from  the  souls  of  listening, 
wondering,  wandering  travelers,  praises  to  God — "that 
a  violin  was  made."  (His  success  is  in  God  being  praised, 
and  he  is  satisfied.) 

|5lF°  If  I  hain't  never  made  up  my  mind  yet  to  "hiss" 
a  hypocrite,  I  yet  "  can  and  am  going  to  "  acknowledge 
merit,  even  if  I  have  to  take  a  reserved  seat  on  a 
piece  of  chip  near  some  abandoned  pig-sty ;  for  those  that 
do  acknowledge  true  merit,  if  it  be  in  rags,  don't  often 
get  the  "  chief  seats  "  in  the  swine-a-gog  (nor  may -be  in 
the  "  synagogue "  either).  Or,  in  other  words,  if  I  am 
not  your  equal  in  forbearance,  I  am  at  least  "not  going 
to  "for-bear"  from  "owning"  up."  The  "  corns  "  are 
ready  to  be  past  over  any  time. 

The  corns  on  my  feet  I'd  rather  bestow  on  my  hypo- 
critical brother  (?).  You  see  I  am  growing  in  "  forbear- 
ance." I  expect  at  the  next  trial  to  write  the  brother 
without  interrogation. 

N.  B. — I  wish  you  a  long  life  and  a  happy  one,  a 
much  hugged  spouse  and  some  slightly  spanked  babies 
(spouses  that  can't  be  hugged,  and  babies  that  can't  be 
spanked  slightly,  I  don't  seem  to  delight  much  in)  and 
plenty  of  mashed  potatoes  to  feed  them  on. 

I  desire  that  thy  shadow  may  remain  long  in  the  land 
thy  fathers  have  given  thee,  and  that  that  land  may  be 
a  full  section ;  that  thy  substance  may  ne'er  be 
wasted,  either  in  conning  love  ditties  to  "sum  lovely 
made  "  or  in  writing  epitaphs  for  "  sum  "  impecunious 
newspapers.     I  seem  to  imagine  that  you're  an  Odd-fel- 


1 82  Every  Man  is  my  Brother. 

low — as  you  are  not  like  many  in  this  Hemisphere ;  but 
again,  I  conclude,  you  were  not  an  "  odd-fellow,"  as  your 
platform  is  broader  than  theirs ;  yea,  even  is  it  broader 
than  the  "  mason,"  when  building  "  sum "  house,  or 
than  that  of  some  creed-worshipper,  when  dedicating 
"  sum  "  fine  church  or  lecturing  for  "  sum "  "  foreign 
society  of  maimed  ducks."     What  are  you  ? 


NOTHING    ABOUT    NOTHING. 


To  some  of  mankind  the  changing  kaleidoscope  of 
summer  clouds,  which,  ever  changing  from  dark  to  light 
and  from  light  to  dark  again,  make  to  blush  the  con- 
summate paintings  of  a  Raphael  or  Michael  Angelo, 
and  in  their  imitations  of  various  forms,  baffling  the  de- 
scription   of  a  Shakespeare,   a   Byron,  or   a  Homer,  is 

NOTHING. 

Nature  (in  the  aggregate — man,  animal,  and  thing), 
whose  depths  mysterious  a  Newton  could  not  fathom, 
but,  "  like  a  child "  upon  old  ocean's  storm-lapped 
shores,  "  only  played  with  the  pebbles  " — whose  won- 
drous beauties  and  mystic  symphonies  nor  Humboldt 
nor  Linnaeus  could  understand,  nor  a  Handel,  nor  a  Mo- 
zart put  to  music — is  to  most  men  nothing  ! 

(The  above-mentioned  classes  will  have  to  grow  tails, 
to  become  thoroughly  natural,  like  their  characters.) 

Most  of  men  are  capacitated  to  read  and  understand 
all  about  a  horse-race,  bat  very  few  (more  for  want  of 
instruction  than  aught  else)  have  a  mind  comprehensive 
enough  or  heart  warm  enough  to  even  try  to  learn  that 
gain,  fame,  and  piety  are  nothing  ! — when  staked  against 
the  unfathomable  joys  of  disinterested  well-doing. 

There  are  "  sum  "  folks  that  imagine  the  road  to  hap- 
piness is  that  road  which  passes  nearest  a  church  door, 
a  poor-house,  or  a  "  Home  for  the  outcast  :  "  but  that 
the  way  that  leads  them  by  the  cot  of  the  lowly,  or  the 


1 84  Nothing  About  Nothing. 

abode  of  the  famished,  are  a  dirty  by-path  that  a  well- 
constructed  he-sheep  wouldn't  deign  to  amble  along. 

The  attempts  of  Galileo  to  establish  truths  involved 
in  the  vibrations  of  the  pendulum  was,  to  "  sum  "  folks, 
nothing  ! — but  from  them  "  same  "  endeavors  being  suc- 
cessful is  due  the  tact  that  all  time  is  now  measured  cor- 
rectly. 

The  struggles  of  Columbus  to  discover  the  shortest 
passage  to  Asia  was,  to  "  sum  folks,"  nothing  ! — yet  on 
account  of  those  same  efforts,  is  America  now  a  place  to 
be  immigrated  to  by  "  Celestials,"  so-called. 

[I  have  about  made  up  my  mind  if  a  man  says  he  has 
discovered  the  most  direct  passage  to  the  moon  not  only 
not  to  object  at  oil,  but,  as  far  as  a  stray  "nickel  is  con- 
cerned," help  him  to  prove  it] 

The  efforts  of  a  Morse  to  utilize,  and  of  a  Field  to  in- 
ternationalize "  systematic  "  galvanism,  were  sneered  at 
as  nothings  !  evolved  from  the  brains  of  Utopian 
fools ;  but  every  village  experiences.good  results  from  it, 
as  to  early  reports  of  the  state  of  affairs,  monetary  and 
political,  and  the  world  at  present  is  encircled  with  the 
bands  of  an  outward  goodwill  as  extended  as  the  globe 
itself.  I've  seemed  to  know  some  16-yr.-old  women, 
and  "sum"  40-year-old  girls  who  wrote  unto  their 
"adored"  some  8  page  notes,  full  of  "  luv  and  sich," 
with  a  commencement  of  nothing !  to  "  write  about 
worth  mentioning." 

Simon  Jones'  cow  gets  "gored"  by  Ephraim  Sims' ox, 
and  Ephraim  will  be  the  first  to  exclaim  that  it  "  amounts 
to  a  mere  nothing  !  "  and  if  Jim  Smith's  hog  wanders 
away  and  "  accidentally  gets  butchered,"  Tom  Thomp- 
son will  say  "  Why,  that's  nothing  !  " 


Nothing  About  Nothing.  185 

Jones'  and  Smith's  losses  are  of  no  great  deal  of  con- 
sequence to  Sims  and  Thompson  (so  they  say),  but  I'll 
venture  they  are  something  to  "somebody,  nevertheless." 

I  have  seen  worn-out  clerks,  before  now,  standing 
erect  before  "  sum  "  counter,  cutting  "  tape  "  for  "  sum  " 
fashionable  female  (a  biped  that  wore  some  other  bird's 
feathers)  and,  upon  sympathizing  with  them  before 
"sum"  bemonied  acquaintances,  heard  the  remark  made 
that  "  they  do  a  mere  nothing  !  " 

There  were  several  times  some  babies  born  to 
Sally  Jane  and  your  Uncle  Jonas,  and  we  naturally 
— especially  along  at  first— imagined  it  loere  some  baby  : 
but,  at  each  respective  borning,  our  neighbors,  who,  of 
course,  knew  of  it  before  we  did,  made  the  very  satisfac- 
tory (?)  incontestable  (?) — I  might  say  detestable,  but  I 
won't,  will  I  ? — remark  "  why  !  that's  nothing  ! ! !  we 
have  had  twelve." 

(If  I  were  a  "  better  "  I'd  go  'em  a  one  cent  postage 
stamp — old  issue — that  their  twelve  babies  never  got 
any  tooth-grip  on  any  "  mashed  potatoes,"  nor  a  dis- 
tant smell  at  "  old  rye  and  honey" — they  may  get  to 
hear  of  "  sum  "  dried  apples  and  40  rod  strychnine  gut 
turally  muttered  over  by  their  parents,  but  that's  all.) 

"  Once  on  a  time,"  when  I  didn't  understand  about 
all  the  sublime  beauties  of  bankrupt  laws,  financial  em- 
barrassment "  overtook  me,"  but  my  many  warm  friends 
on  learning  of  it  very  sagely  reminded  their  hearers  of 
their  previous  admonitions  concerning  me,  and  "  closed 
by  saying  :  "  "  That's  nothing  ! !  Ave  expected  that  long 
ago."  (They  knew  no  more  about  the  causes  than  a 
black  cat  did  about  truth.  I  know,  as  I  witnessed — 
from  afar — their  downfall  soon  afterwards.) 


1 86  Nothing  About  Nothing. 

The  great  fire    in  London,  a.d. ,   so-called,   was 

(maybe)  nothing  to  Kamschatkans,  but  it  caused  a 
good  deal  of  sorrow,  I  expect,  to  the  Cockneys.  "  Sum" 
people  have  the  vanity  to  believe,  that  what's  maybe  of 
no  importance  or  worth  to  them,  is  equally  unappreciated 
by,  and  valueless  to,  others. 

A  writer  says  :  "  Handel  once  undertook,  in  a  crowded 
church,  to  play  the  dismissal,  on  a  very  fine  organ.  The 
whole  congregation  became  so  entranced  with  delight 
that  not  an  individual  stirred.  At  length  the  usual 
organist  came  impatiently  forward  and  took  his  seat,  say- 
ing, in  a  tone  of  superiority,  '  You  cannot  dismiss  a 
congregation  ;  see  how  soon  /can  disperse  them.' ''  That 
congregation  is  said  to  have  went  /  but  your  Uncle  Jonas 
would  seem  to  sujjpose,  tho',  that  it  was  not  because 
Handel  was  not  appreciated,  but  because  the  "  usual" 
organist  was. 

Most  of  folks  are  like  the  "  dog  in  the  manger,"  they 
don't  like  the  hay  themselves,  and  they  intend  the  "  ox  " 
shan't.  They  bark  forth  real  nothings  ! !  to  an  impatient 
world. 

N.  B.— "  Sum  folks "  will  say,  "  This  article  am 
nothing  !  "  and  quote,  "  Take  nothing  from  nothing,  and 
nothing  remains  " — "  all  the  'rithmetic  they  ever  learn- 
ed," and  that,  parrot-like,  they  got  from  others'  mouths. 
I  care  not  much  for  their  say,  "Where' did  you  get 
your  quotations  from,  Jonas  %  "  From  mashed  potatoes 
and  experience,  old  rye  and  honey,  and  memory.  "  Whar 
else,  you  suppose  ?  "  A  friend  says,  "  I'd  like  to  make 
the  feller  that  can't  see  '  some  point  in  it,'  have  to  eat 
icecream  and  'silly-bub'  all  the  time  forever,  and  not  be 
allowed  to  have  a  'tater'  in  his  'little  house'  in  all  his 


Nothing  About  Nothing.  187 

life;  but  I  don't  want  him  to  be  the  father  of  any 
children  to  pass  his  meanness  on  down  to." 

I' think  that  friend  needs  "  reorganizing ;  "  don't  you  ? 
I'll  have  to  read  him  a  little  article  on  the  "Milk  of 
Human  Kindness,"  I  expect.  One  consolation  is: 
"  Can't  be  something  great  that's  written  about  l  noth- 
ing ! '  "  and  "  '  about  nothing '  is  a  very  dry  subject." 

Diversity  of  opinion  makes  the  world  what  she  are 
— maybe. 

If  people  don't  see  things  as  I  see  them,  I  ain't 
agoing  to  grumble;  but  I  sometimes  feel  like  that  I'd 
like  they  would  take  a  sight  at  some  object  "  thro'  my 
specs,"  before  they  expressed  themselves  so  unreservedly. 


OLD   EYE  AND   HONEY. 


This  peculiar  diet,  over  which  o'er- wise  temperance 
lecturers  sometimes  shake  their  owl-ish  heads,  arid  about 
which  they  often  try  to  terrify,  and  whose  richness  the 
stomachs  of  "  fast "  young  men  can't  digest,  has  been  for 
ages  back  the  regenerator  of  the  body,  the  pacificator 
of  disturbances,  the  healer  of  skinned  shins  and  bruised 
noses,  and  the  speedy  dissolver  of  all  cares. 

[Papas  and  mammas  so  constantly  apply  to  the 
mouths  of  their  children  cordials  of  all  kinds,  that  the 
inflamed  stomachs  of  their  offspring  are  even  incapable 
of  digesting  persimmon  beer. 

They  commence  with  Mrs. 's  "  soothing  syrup,"  to 

quiet  their  infantile  screams,  and  end  with  the  bitters  of 

Dr. (who   is   running,   as   it  is  said,  an   "express 

train  "  every  minute  to  "  sum  "  "  hot  springs  " — with 
"  sum"  evangelists  as  engineers  and  conductors,  and  with 
"  sum "  patients  as  passengers),  to  still  their  boyish 
whines.     These  are  the  folks  that  whine  at  old  rye.] 

What  may  be  said,  in  the  following  paragraphs,  don't 
authorize  anybody  to  make  a  rascal  or  a  dunce  of  him- 
self, by  trying  to  monopolize  all  of  old  rye  and  honey,  by 
getting  ii})  a  "corner"  or  a  "  drunk  "  on  it. 

Like  honest  labor,  there's  none  too  much  of  it  on  the 
market  anyhow,  and  /  am  not  one  of  those  that  wants 
it  watered  for  the  sake  of  reducing  the  price.     "  I  pre- 


Old  Rye  and  Honey.  189 

fer  to  do  my  own  watering."  Nor  do  I  wTant  such  a 
monopoly  made  of  it,  that,  if  we  require  any,  we'd  have 
to  take  a  substitute  of  "Jersey  lightning"  and  "yellow 
sugar  " — sworn  to  be  old  rye  and  honey. 

They  may  fool  the  lone  Indian,  and  "  Celestials," 
and  the  Dutch  on  that  kind  of  stuff,  but  I'll  bet  they 
"can't  stick  their  little  finger"  in  the  left  eye  of 
an  old-fashioned  Irish  gentleman,  or  Jonas  Simpkins 
either, — in  that  way — any  more  than  they  could  de- 
ceive a  well-bred  infant  as  to  the  deliciousness  (?)  of 
kaster  ile. 

(I  once  might  have  added  that  I  wouldn't  think  that 
they  could  "stick  me"  on  a  hypocrite,  but  I've  lived 
long  enough  to  know,  that  in  my  case  "an  increase 
of  }rears  "  don't  bring  much  "  increase  of  wisdom  ;  "  and 
altho'  experience  has  doubtless  taught  me  some  things, 
yet  to  read  a  hypocrite  by  his  face  I  can't  really 
say  that  I  can.  They  are  so  wondrous  deceitful,  that 
now-a-days  it  takes  some  little  time  to  find  them  out,  but 
when  I  do  get  to  knowT  them,  I  seem  to  know  them 
all  over. 

As  friend  "  Billings "  says  by  his  family,  so  it  hath 
always  been  with  the  Simpkinses :  when  they  get  a  grip 
on  anything  they  don't  turn  loose  for  the  sake  of  spitting 
on  their  hands  to  get  a  better  hold.  No !  if  the  Simp- 
kinses ever  did  turn  loose  at  all  to  go  into  the  spitting 
business,  it  were  only  one  hand  at  a  time — the  other 
holding  on  as  tight  as  a  "possum  up  a  gum-tree,  or 
cooney  in  the  holler." 

I  often  have  wondered  (as  I  wandered)  why  abstinence 
men  haven't  preached  more  against  the  apple-crop  as  a 
degenerator,   instead   of  whining   about   a   stray   drink 


190  Old  Rye  and  Honey. 

of  good  old  extract  of  rye,  with,  some  essence  of  flowers 
to  flavor  it  with  ;  for  Adam  is  said  to  have  been  tempted 
by  that  fruit  into  the  taking  only  of  one  bite,  and  by 
that  bite  to  have  enslaved  a  world.  Darned  if  I  believed 
that,  if  I  didn't  go  in  for  weeding  out  the  "  hull  apple 
bizness." 

As  for  me,  the  flavor  of  rye — once  in  a  while — is 
better  to  my  palate  than  "sum  "  Methodist  hymn,  or  the 
music  from  "  sum  "  4tli  rate  choir ;  and  if  I  were  President 
of  these  United  States,  so-called,  I'd  give  Indian  Mission- 
aries more  old  rye  and  honey  than  strychnine^',  e.,  for  feed- 
ing Indians,  not  Missionaries — I  might  give  the  Mission- 
aries the  strychnine),  some  potatoes  instead  of  "  sum " 
glass  beads  (to  sow  in  what  little  real  estate  there  are,  or 
might  be  left,  after  the  government  and  its  agents  have 
gotten  their  share — if  there  was  any  real  estate  to  squab- 
ble over),  and  I  think  from  what  little  I've  learned,  that 
there  would  be  fewer  bad  Indians  and  dead  soldiers, 
fewer  Indian  taxes  to  pay  and  more  potatoes  raised,  and 
fewer  small  hamlets  razed  and  more  missionaries  left  (to 
stay  at  home — or  starve). 

I  make  these  Indian  remarks  with  all  due  respect  to 
the  rest  of  mankind  that  have  been  fighting  against  "  lone 
Injun"  for  lo !  these  many  years,  and  I  can't  help  but 
thinking,  that  if  they  (the  Indians)  had  more  time  left 
them  to  think  and  smoke,  instead  of  being  preached  to 
so  much,  there  would  be  fewer  smoJie-'uig  cabins  and 
thought-less  war  whoops,  even  if  the  potato  crop  of  that 
section  warn't  increased  any.  "  And  I  moreover  do 
declare,  that  my  opinion  is,"  that  if  the  agents  had  been 
little  more  diligent  in  teaching  their  people  the  mysteries 
and  benefits  enclosed  in  the  bowels  of  a  potato,  that 


Old  Rye  and  Honey.  191 

it  wouldn't  have  been  necessary  to  feed  them  so  punc- 
tually (?)  on  glass  beads.  Indians  can  think  as  well  as 
other  folks,  and  "  think  darned  fast  sometimes,"  I  am 
told.  1  don't  want  the  position  of  Indian  Agent  now, 
tho' — "after  the  other  fellers  have  done  all  the  mean 
they  can."  They  are  responsible  for  the  lives  of  Amer- 
ican soldiers  lying  dead  on  yonder  frontier,  "  them 
agents"  are. 

Josh  Billings  (mine  friend)  said  once  that  "  good 
Injun,"  as  "  per  his  belief,"  died  young,"  (or  "  sum  sich  "). 
If  so  !  much  "  bad  whiskey  "  and  "  yaller  sugar,"  much 
misunderstood  tracts  (and  tracks  misunderstood  in  turn 
kill  the  white  man — a  kind  of  natural  restitution  of  tracks 
for  tracts,  I  suppose)  and  glass  beads  killed  the  parent 
of  the  deceased  young  "Injun" — and  the  "good  Injun" 
aint'  the  only  one,  as  per  my  belief,  that's  gone  up, 
or  under,  from  too  sufficient  a  supply  of  "sum"  of 
which. 

"  Him  whom  bad  whiskey  won't  kill '  lightning '  (unless 
specially  directed)  won't  sile,"  so  an  acquaintance  says. 
But  "  old  rye "  ain't  no  "  bad  whiskey,"  as  I'd  like  to 
prove.  Rye,  of  which  "old  rye"  are  an  extract,  has 
been  raised  in  almost  every  clime,  and  a  great  many 
ages  ago,  and  been  masticated  as  bread  by  almost  every 
inhabitant  of  earth,  and  why  the  extract  should  be  more 
injurious  than  the  original  ("  if  taken  in  even  doses  "  )  I 
ain't  been  able  to  "  diskiver  "  the  which  of. 

Teetotallers  will  even  drink  "  rye  coffee,"  but  profess 
to  be  sick  if  they  ever  get  even  a  distant  smell  pf  old  rye 
— I  can't  say  whether  their  "  sick  "  are  genuine,  or  only 
a  feint  (or  faint — I  should  say).  But  I  seem  to  think 
that  if  I  "  could  eat   the  devil   and  drink  his   broth," 


192  Old  Rye  and  Honey. 

I  could  take  that  broth  a  little  stronger — especially 
if  the  doses  were  smaller  and  I  thought  "'twould  do  me 
good. 

Honey,  on  which — when  wild  even — John  the  Bap- 
tist (is  said  to  have)  fed,  "  are  "  extract  of  "  sum  "  flow- 
ers, by  some  generous  bee  distilled,  and  "  are  "  healing 
to  both  the  "  inner  and  outer  man  ; "  and  when  used, 
even  by  the  inch,  on  some  rye  bread,  "  are  "  deemed  good 
by  a  hungry  parson  (person  I  should  say) ;  but  when 
gently  mingled  with  some  "  old  rye "  "  are "  consid- 
ered fit  subject  for — slander. 

ISTow,  "  as  for  me,"  I  care  not  what  course  others  may 
take,  but  I  want  liberty  or  I  want  death.  I  wouldn't 
even  mind  to  take  some  rye  bread  if  I  first  secure  some 
extract  of  old  rye  to  "wash  my  throat  in;"  or  some 
honey  on  that  bread,  if  only  a  little  be  left  to  sweeten 
the  next  dram  with.  (Parents  make  a  great  mistake  in 
that  they  don't  see  what  kind  of  whiskey,  brandy,  gin 
or  rum,  their  children  are  drinking — and  if  not  old  rye, 
I'd  advise  them  to  get  it  for  them,  but  not  to  drink  it  all, 
nor  the  most  of  it,  nor  hardly  any  of  it  themselves.) 

P.  S. — It  has  rejuvenated,  in  my  case,  a  body  worn 
down  by  a  chronic  liver  complaint,  by  "inward  applica- 
tion " — old  rye  has. 

It  has  healed,  with  honey  mixed,  a  bruised  chin  by 
•  nit  ward  application — old  rye  has. 

It  hath  silenced  many  an  angry  foe — with  pistol  cocked 
and  primed — old  rye  lias. 

It  hath  "purvided  many  an  handy  friend,"  when  hard 
up  were  the  times — old  rye  has. 

"  It  have  been  a  better  medicine  than  kamphor,  kas- 
ter  ile  or  kayenne  pepper,  in  my  family  " — old  rye  has. 


Old  Rye  and  Honey.  193 

And  if  the  "  wise  Giver  of  all  good  "  lets  a  little  of  it 
lie  about  loose  in  my  hut,  I  don't  yet  think  that  Sally 
Jane  and  your  Uncle  Jonas  will  either. refuse  to  thank 
him  for  it,  or  go  back  on  a  smell  at  the  perfume  that — 
old  rye  has. 

I  don't  know  that  old  rye  are  good  to  swear  by,  or 
preach  by,  or  lie  by,  or  die  by,  but  I  do  seem  to  know  that 
it  a,re  good  for  many  a  bodily  infirmity  and  mental  ill,  if 
taken  patiently  /  and  I  am  willing  to  "  keep  it  around, 
for  convenience  sake,"  for  some  "  time  to  come,"  I  be- 
lieve, at  least  I  imagine  I  believe  so. 

It  may  seem  queer  to  you  if  1  know  (?)  so  much  about 
old  rye,  that  I  can't  tell  you  about  the  swearing,  preach- 
ing, lying  and  dying  part,  but  I  guess  no.  As  to  the 
swearing,  it  ain't  necessary  now-a-days  for  me  to  do 
much,  and  if  I  ever  did,  it  were  when  Sally  Jane  or  old 
rye  wan't  around.  They  keep  swears  off  of  me  as  natu- 
rally as  they  do  bilious  fever,  and  therefore  I  respect 
them.  As  to  the  preaching,  I  never  got  into  that  kind 
of  business  somehow — altho'  my  friends  hoped  I  might, 
as  my  father  had  before  me. 

(Preachers'  sons  are  rarely  ever  preachers,  especially  if 
their  father  before  'em  was,  and  was  a  good  one ;  for  a  good 
preacher  don't  get  the  respect  shown  him,  that's  shown 
"  a  district  schoolmaster."  Some  folks  say  that  preach- 
ers' sons  are  most  anything  else  but  preachers,  but  I 
don't  know  whether  they  know,  or  not.) 

As  to  the  lying  around  a  keg  of  spirits,  like  as  to 
some  old  toper,  I  never  did  it ;  and  as  to  lying  about 
others,  I  never  did  it. 

As  to  the  dying  part ;  "  I  don't  bin  in  that  bizness 
nuther,"  yet  altho'  I  have  had  several  narrow  escapes 


194  Old  Rye  and  Honey. 

that  I  know  of,  and  "  I  don't  know  how  many  that  I 
didn't  know  of."  Once  my  obituary  was  written  by  a 
sympathetic  friend,  and  if  I  had  it  now  it  should  go  in 
this  book. 

I  hope  the  gentle  pup-lick  *  won't  get  in  any  worse 
company,  than  an  occasional  glass  of  well  mixed  old  rye 
and  honey,  and  if  it  don't  but  abides  by  a  discussion  at 
intervals,  of  that  and  mashed  potatoes  only,  its  passage 
thro'  the  Hades  won't  be  so  rough  as  some  try  to  "  fig- 
ure it " — I  wager. 

Old  rye  don't,  no  more  than  mashed  potatoes,  need  too 
frequent  feeding  on.  The  man  that  constantly  preaches 
against  old  rye,  I  have  found  generally  to  have  had  his 
diet  mostly  on  skimmed  milk  and  sour  cider. 

*  Jonas  off  on  a  shoot  again,  "  pup-lick  "  for  public. — (Ed.) 


''CONSISTENCY    IS   A    JEWEL." 


There  now  is  something  else  (a  few  words  only)  that 
"  I've  always  kinder  sorter  taken  a  liking  to."  It  hath  a 
"good  jingle,"  like  unto  some  pure  gold  coin,  that  is 
truly  cheering  and  pleasant.  The  great  trouble  with  us 
all  is,  that  there  seems  to  he  so  little  consistency,  so  few 
jewels,  and  so  small  a  quantity  of  real  gold,  floating 
around  in  the  seas  of  moral  sentiment  or  commercial 
intercourse.  There  are  plenty  of  inconsistency,  a  suffi- 
ciency of  paste,  and  "lots  of  brass  ear-rings,"  but  I  never 
have  been  able  "  to  go  my  whole  length "  on  these 
kind  of  "  knick-knacks." 

They  didn't  seem  to  satisfy  my  natural,  bodily,  or  men- 
tal hunger.  There  are  a  good  many  things  that  a  man 
can  fool  me  on,  no  doubt, — such  as  horseflesh,  "  hash," 
French  candy,  liquorice  drops,  etc. — more  because  I've 
not  had  much  experience  in  that  line,  I  guess  than  other- 
wise ;  but  I  am  inclined  (?)  to  think  that  I  can,  after 
"  getting  my  peepers  square  on  them,"  tell  a  hypocrite 
from  a  moral  man,  mashed  potatoes  from  souse,  stewed 
sugar  from  soap  grease — at  least  as  to  the  potatoes  and 
sugar,  my  mother  said  "Jonas  could  discriminate  when 
quite  young,"  and  I  think  about  the  hypocrite  I  have 
learnt  something  in  my  older  days.  (Altho',  as  in  a 
previous  chapter  and  in >\v  reiterated,  "I  may  not  be  able 
until  after  a  little  while  to  tell  exactly  who  is  the  hypo- 
crite ;  "  yet  as  I  wrote  the  above  declaration  in  my  diary, 


196  "  Consistency  is  a  Jewel? 

when  I  was  younger  than  I  are  now,  I  will  leave  it, 
like  the  poets  do,  "for  the  sake  of  the  rhythm?  Call 
it  not  mconsistency  but  "  poetic  license,"  and  you'll  be 
able  to  meander  thro'  all  straight.) 

"  In  my  boyhood's  days,"  I  knew  a  talented  man  who 
from  some  cause  (what !  I  know  not)  would  occasionally 
"  give  up  to  "  drinking  burnt-rosin  rum,  and  would  be 
led  sadly  astray — going  down  almost  unto  the  dumb- 
brutes  in  depravity. 

This  man's  mother  (speak  it  reverently)  was  a  con- 
sistent woman,  and,  her  residence  being  at  the  head  of 
the  street,  she  always  placed  a  lamp  at  one  of  the  win- 
dows, when  her  bachelor  son  was  out,  to  guide  his  foot- 
steps home  !  I  have  seen  him  stop  and  look  at  that  light 
(before  being  "  too  tar  gone  ").  He'd  then  be  almost  led 
to  go  to  his  anxious  mother,  saying,  more  in  mind 
and  heart  than  with  lips,  in  gentle  tone  and  with  head 
downcast,  "  mother  calls  me  home  ! "  I  have  be- 
sought him  to  "listen  to  her  silent  beckonings,  and 
(thanking  God  for  such  a  mother)  to  return  home  ! " — 
but,  some  sudden  thought  flashing  wildly  through  his 
disordered  brain,  he'd  off  to  drown  that  silent,  inward 
prayer.  That  man,  "  steeped  in  disgrace  as  he  was," 
was  better  for  such  a  mother  !  Let  mothers  set  up  their 
material  and  moral  light  in  the  windows  of  the  house 
and  heart,  so  that  they  may  always  light  the,  way  that 
leads  (or  may  lead)  the  wanderer  home  !  It  were  not  so 
much  that  candle  that  called  to  that  son,  as  it  was  the 
"silent  watching"  that  the  light  indicated,  a  consistent, 
constant  mother  was  keeping  for  him. 

I  always  admired  consistency  in  religion,  and  whether 
a  man  be  a  Presbyterian  or  Universalist,  a  Catholic  or 


"  Consistency  is  a  Jewel?  197 

"  hard  shell  "  Baptist,  Atheist  or  Theist,  Methodist  or 
Quaker,  Unitarian  or  Freethinker,  Mason  or  Odd  Fel- 
low, I  care  not,  if  he  will  only  act  his  part  consistently 
and  act  not  hypocrite  while  he  prays — and  not  then  if 
he  don't  tread  on  my  corns  nor  try  to  "smother"  me 
with  his  theory. 

I  don't  worry  myself  over  any  man's  ideas  about"  as 
to  saving  the  country  what  the  best  plan  is,"  so  he  be- 
haves himself  as  well  as  a  tolerable-bred  mulatto — and 
may — be  not  then,  if  he  don't  try  to  shove  his  particular 
opinions  on  me  as  extra  sound  and  practical. 

(And  I'd  say  just  here,  that  if  there  is  anything  you 
like  in  this  book,  swallow,  and  if  there  ain't  don't.  I 
am  no  "  make-bird-sing  "  man.) 

I  am  not  especially  anxious  as  to  how  "  that  ar  "  be- 
fnmed,  bepuffed  up  youth  curls  his  moustache,  or  whe- 
ther it  "  ar  "  brown  or  sandy,  provided  he  sticks  to  one 
color  and  one  curler — and  not  then,  if  he  don't  meddle 
himself  with  the  shape  of  mine. 

I  don't  fret  over  the  fact  that  a  beauteous  maiden  may 
have  a  different  idea  of  what  "  love  "  is  than  I  do,  so 
she  don't  like  too  many  men  of  different  natures  at  the 
same  time  or  any  other  time — and  not  then,  if  she  don't 
call  me  grandpap.  (If  there  is  anything  that  hurts  any- 
body it's  telling  them  their  faults.)  Consistency  "are" 
"beautiful"  in  cmytkmg y  it  makes  a  monkey  a  plea- 
sant jester,  a  young  man  a  cheerful  companion,  a  blue- 
eyed  maid  an  earthly  angel,  an  aged  man  a  reverenced 
friend,  an  elderly  female  an  esteemed  adviser,  and 
my  Sally  Jane  a  glorious  wife.  Consistency  is  to  man 
what  feathers  are  to  a  goose — hiding  many  a  bodily  de- 
formity and  making  his  rest  easy. 


198  "  Consistency  is  a  Jewel? 

Bread  ain't  worth  a  cent  without  the  dough  has  con- 
sistency. 

Piety  is  worse  than  much  corn  husk  without  con- 
sistency. 

Politeness  is  a  bye-word  unless  it  hath  consistency. 

Prayer  is  a  mockery  without  a  good  deal  of  con- 
sistency. 

And  even  gum-drops  ain't  worth  sucking  if  they 
haven't  "  sum  "  consistency. 

My  fore-father  and  fore-mother  Simpkins  were  consist- 
ent christians  (which,  if  they  liked  to  be  christians,  I 
don't  object),  and  if  they  hadn't  been  christians  they 
could  not  have  helped  being  consistent — too  many 
mashed  potatoes  in  that  family  for  any  inconsistency  to 
thrive  much. 

They  could  no  more  have  promised  one  tiling  and 
"gone  about  doing  something  else"  than  a  fly  could 
have  crawled  two  ways  at  once  (or  a  sand  crab  one  way 
at  two  times). 

They  could  no  more  have  taught  one  thing,  and  prac- 
ticed another,  than  a  mouse  can  climb  a  "  greased  hick- 
ory." 

If  there  is  any  one  thing  that  I  am  especially  thank- 
ful to  nature's  God  for,  it  is  that  he  led  my  parents  to 
teach  me  the  beauties  of  consistency,  and  taught  them 
to  partake  of  that  kind  of  diet  that  produced  it. 
Whether  from  my  latter  contact  with  the  world  much  of 
my  consistency  hath  gotten  worn  off,  I  know  not ;  but 
it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  as  inconsistency  is  my  so  great 
aversion,  that  there  may  be  a  few  consistency  hid  loosely 
around  my  ribs  like. 

What   consistency   I  have  got  (or  have  not  got)  I 


"  Consistency  is  a  Jewel?  199 

wouldn't  trade  off  even  for  a  seat  with  kings,  or  a 
plenteous  meal  for  .my  hungry  family.  I  have  always 
been  tempted  to  believe  that  a  man  without  it  were 
worse  off  than  a  fly  without  wings,  or  a  grasshopper 
without  legs — he  may  get  into  sweetness  and  get  out 
again,  but  if  so  he  can't  make  much  "big  day's  jour- 
ney." 

The  inconsistent  man  is  as  slippery  as  an  eel — you 
may  kill  and  roast  him,  but  he'll  wriggle  still:  he  is  as 
deceptive  to  deal  with  as  a  greased  gimlet — when  you 
imagine  you're  boring  away  finely,  the  gimlet  is  slipping 
thrd  your  fingers ;  he  is  as  uncertain  as  a  flea — being 
sure  to  bite  when  you  don't  expect  it,  and  as  apt  to 
get  away  ere  you  do  expect  it;  he  is  as  friendly 
as  a  mosquito — "  cousining "  (or  cozening")  you  only  to 
"  bleed  "  you  j  he  is  as  fickle  as  a  damaged  organ — 
giving  sometimes  a  semblance'  of  music  but  only  to 
disappoint  you  by  closing  up  with  a  squeak  ;  he  is  as 
plausible  as  a  Sunday  sermon— and  as  false  as  "  week- 
day practice." 

P.  S.— Consistency  may  (?)  not  be  a  jewel  of  sufficient 
value  to  secure  a  man  a  reserved  seat  (so-called)  in  Para- 
dise (so-called) ;  but  if  it  aint  it  are  mighty  consoltng  to 
have  it  around  you  here. 

I  don't  much  believe  a  man  could  secure  by  its  aid 
much  of  a  "  paying  position  "  even  here,  but  if  he  can't  I 
don't  much  hanker  after  much  position. 

Consistent  men  often  wonder  if  they  be  consistent,  but 
an  inconsistent  one  never. 


POLITICS: 

A  GREAT  MAELSTROM  IN  WHICH  FOOLERS 
AND  FOOLS  GET  WOFULLY  MIXED,  AND 
SOME  GET  "SUMTHYMES"  DROWNED. 


Politics,  like  as  to  mathematics,  hydrostatics,  gym- 
nastics, "  clockticks,"  "  cowticks,"  "  bedticks,"  "  seeticks," 
and  acoustics,  may  be  of  "  sum  "  importance,  if  thorough- 
ly understood  ;  but  from  the  physical,  moral,  intellect- 
ual, and  financial  conditions  of  most  countries,  it  would 
not  seem  that  there  were  any  overwhelmingly  large 
number  of  people  that  were  capable  of  "  fathoming  the 
mysterious  depths  "  of  it — i.  e.,  as  viewed  from  a  saw- 
buck. 

Most  of  men  go  to  vote  like  they  go  to  church,  or 
theatre,  because  it  are  fashionable  or  customary. 

These  people  expect  by  placing  a  "littlest"  slip 
of  paper  in  a  littler  hole  in  a  little  box  (for  his  opponent 
to  stuff  four  more  upon)  to  change  the  fate  of  a  coun- 
try, or — obtain  some  soft  position  in  counting  house 
or  State,  by  colleaguing  with  those  who  make  money 
by  their  votes. 

Time  was,  when  voting  was  a  power  in  the  land  (votes 
were   "scarcer  than  they  are  now,"    even   among   the 


Politics.  201 

6ame  number  of  people),  but  now,  when  intelligence 
is  not  {always)  equal  to  money,  nor  honesty  (always) 
equivalent  to  position,  it  are  to  my  mind  very  doubt- 
ful if  voting  be  anything  but  "von — what  you  call 
him  ? — humbug,"  as  a  foreign  acquaintance  once  ob- 
served. Why  that  observation  happened  to  be  made 
was  thusly : 

Ebenezer  Thompson  (Neze,  we  called  him  for  short — 
and  he  always  swallowed  it  on  election  days,  but  after 
that  he'd  say,  "  my  name  is  Ebenezer  Thompson,  if  you 
please  "  )  was  candidate  for — well !  for  toothpick  dis- 
tributor— and  had  just  asked  a  foreign  friend  (?)  fur  his 
vote — to  be  cast  for  him  on  account  of  "party  affilia- 
tion"— and  when  he  candidly  refused  to  "support  him," 
had  gruffly  murmured,  as  he  wandered  otf,  "  The  darned 
fool  don't  know  that  I  just  asked  him  for  fun,  as  I've 
already  got  my  men  'marked,  ticketed,  and  ready  for 
sale,'  and  enough  to  '  kill  my  opponent's  votes.'  "  "  Neze  " 
was  accurate  as  to  figures,  and  carried  the  election.  His 
money  silenced  most  of  his  weak  opponents'  conscientious 

scruples,  and  convinced  the  world,  of county,  "  that 

he  were  an  honest  man"  (except  a  few; — my  "foreign 
acquaintance,"  ISTeze's  "foreign  friend"  (?),  and  some 
others  who  had  witness'd  Neze's  "departure").  Neze 
went  "  back  on  his  friends,"  tho',  before  his  term  of  office 
expired,  and  maybe  they  wont  "  go  for  him  so  strong  " 
the  next  time ;  but  1  wouldn't  bet  on  it.  (I'd  say  here, 
that  I'd  rather  bet  on  a  comet  striking  the  earth,  even 
if  she  be  a  few  days,  weeks,  or  months  "  past  due,"  than 
I  would  on  a  vote  upon  an  election  that's  either  "  not  to 
come  otf  in  some  time,"  or  "  now  coming  off,"  or  even 
one  that  had  "passed" — in  the  latter  case  I  should  fear 


202  Politics. 

I'd  "  gotten  names  mixed,"  and  were  "  betting  on  the 
wrong  man.") 

At  any  rate,  I  don't  affect  politics  any  more'n  I  do 
seeticks,  for  yon  may  get  your  blood  spilt  all  day  for 
your  country,  and,  if  you  succeed  in  retaliating,  only 
extinguish  a  "bug?"1  If  I  were  a  person  that  spent 
much  time  in  voting,  I  imagine  I'd  try  to  spend  more 
time  in  trying  to  find  out  by  thinking — not  in  following 
anybody's  else's  think — of  what  I  intended  to  achieve  by 
voting,  and  whether  that  vote  might  not,  instead  of  sav- 
ing the  country,  in  the  future  deal  some  heavy  blow  to 
my  self-respect. 

I  have  always  been  one  of  the  class  that  believed  we 
need  fewer  votes  and  more  honesty,  less  voting  and  more 
intelligence ;  and  that,  where  voting  was  done  by  every- 
body, honesty  and  intelligence  had  retrograded, 

A  friend  says :  "  A  superabundance  of  votes  ain't 
of  any  more  real  advantage  to  the  '  body  politic ' 
than  a  surplus  of  sour-krout  are  to  the  stomach  of  an 
African  negro.  A  Dutchman  may  '  sumthymes  '  stand 
a  large  amount  of  sour-krout,  but  a  Negro  never."  All 
Dutchmen  don't  like  much  sour-krout. 

I  have  always  argued  with  my  young  friends,  that 
they  had  better  go  to  shelling  popcorn  than  peddling 
political  tracts  ;  or  driving  a  pony-express,  than  speaking, 
about  "  somethings'"  that  they  know  not  of,  upon  a  well- 
wrorn  stump  of  a  weather-beaten  oak  (to  get  "  beaten  " 
themselves  "for  their  trouble") — the  most  pitiable 
drama  that  oak  ever  figured  in,  I  bet. 

But  if  young  men  will  go  into  that  poll-it-i-call  busi- 
ness, let  them  become  thoroughly  posted  as  to  what  con- 
stitutes political  economy,  and  then,  maybe,  if  they  don't 


Politics.  203 

lend  themselves  to  intrigue  and  chicanery,  and  other  dis- 
honesties, they  may  become  statesmen,  if  they  don't 
achieve  (so-called)  political  fame. 

Some  say,  "  We  must  fight  the  devil  with  fire,"  and 
that  "the  end  justifies  the  means;"  but  I've  seemed  to 
notice  that  those  who  fight  "  the  mostest "  with  fire, 
generally  come  out  of  the  melee  with  some  fingers  burnt 
(if  no  worse !),  and  ever  since  Sally  Jane — my  wife — 
gave  me  that  back-stair  hoist,  I  haint  been  so  confident 
about  the  ends  justifying  the  means.  Some  friends  of  mine 
told  our  Arkansas  friends,  that  they  had  better  (after  the 
"  late  unpleasantness  ")  pay  more  attention  to  raising  big 
potatoes,  than  in  trudging  to  "  sum"  polls  to  cast  "  sum  " 
votes  ;  but  they  listened  not ;  and  potatoes  grew  "  skase," 
and  political  rights  grew  scarcer,  until  now  they  are 
bankrupt,  both  in  pocket-book  and  expectations.  Now 
they  sing  ("  after  it's  too  late  " — the  way  with  most  of  us) ; 

"A  little  voting  is  a  purty  good  thing, 
But  too  much  '  woting '  ain't  worth  a  little  'ding?  " 

This  country,  called  America,  will  soon  be  dug  up  into 
post  holes,  "  to  put  hi  poles  in "  (not  fools,  for  they 
don't  bury  the  fools  until  after  election),  with  flags  on 
top  ot  'em,  and  t(h)in  men  on  horseback,  and  t(h)in 
chicken-roosters,  and  t(h)in  hats  around  'em  (or  vice 
versa  as  to  flags  and  tin  things)  ;  and  everybody  (and  his 
wife)  will  want  to  vote,  and  be  "madder  than  Tucker" 
if  the  "  polls  ain't  held  at  their  shop."  Every  one  will 
expect  his  neighbor  to  vote  as  he  directs,  or  want  to  make 
him  "  to  eat  fire"  about  not  doing  it.  A  "good  many  " 
will  "pay  out"  (like  a  fisherman  does  his  trout-line) 
money  for  hacks,  hired   to  carry  "  votes  and  voters  "  to 


204  Politics. 

the  polls  (not' poles)  with,  or  for  "poor  strychnine," 
that  neither  kills  nor  fattens  but  altogether  ruinates,  to 
bamboozle  "  sum  "  with,  or  for  popcraekers  and  Roman 
candles  to  make  some  noise  with,  or  torchlight  proces- 
sions to  make  "  sum  "  show  with,  or  for  "sum  "  political 
(quack)  doctors  to  harangue  somebody  about  something 
what  they  don't  need  to  know,  or  some  flags  to  play 
"  patriotic "  with.  Liquor  sellers,  flag  and  fire-work 
venders,  liverymen,  and  some  politicians  may  make 
"sum"  money  out  of  it,  but  the  mass  of  mankind 
"  will  darn  nigh  starve  while  this  blarsted  thing  am  going 
on;  you  just  see  if  they  don't."  "  This  year  nothing  is 
doing,  and  labor  has  to  work  cheap"  (so  capital  says, 
and  it  seems  so) ;  and  next  year  crops  will  be  scarcer, 
grain  high,  and  work  scarcer  still,  taxes  higher,  and  rent 
higher  still — all  on  account  of  the  confounded  humbug 
of  "  everybody  voting  " — "  you  mind  if  it  ain't." 

When  I  see  a  politician  that's  talking  of  "  going  to 
save  the  country,"  or  a  demagogue  that's  "going  to  work 
to  keep  a  politician  from  saving  (?)  it,"  I  shun  them 
both,  and  hold  a  tight  grip  onto  my  outside  coat-buttons 
"  until  I  am  well  out  of  range."  Not  that  all  men  that 
affect  political  knowledge  are  of  the  grab-button  class, 
but  there  are  so  many  that  are,  that  I  walk  around  some 
to  prevent  being  "  you-curr'd  "*  by  the  others — and  if 
"  you-curr'd,"  get  in  a  row. 

A  person  that  don't  vote  (and  vote  right,  i.  e.,  "  suit 
all  hands  ")  "  ain't  of  use  any  longer  "  in  this  climate — 
especially  if  he  don't  "make  up  "for  not  voting  by 
"  shouting  hallelujahs  "  to  (somebody).    So  I  expect  to 

*  Jonas,  that's  a  stretching  of  "  euchred,"  i"  think ;  but  let  it 
go.— {Ed.) 


Politics.  205 

have  to  seek  some  "  fiirrin  shore,"  where  folks  ain't 
"  quite  so  free  with "  other  people's  liberty  (?)  and 
pocketbooks. 

P.  S. — A  capitalist  may  "  temporarily  stand  "  this 
kind  of  politics,  but  a  poor  man  "  can't  afford  such  a 
luxuryP 

"  How  will  you  remedy  it  ? "  says  cautious  friend. 

I  reply  thusly  (altho',  of  course,  I  don't  know  (?)  so 
much  about  it  as  some  folks,  yet) :  If  I  were  a  voting 
man,  I'd  vote  for  less  voting — for  "  making  the  term  of 
office  last  as  long  as  good  behavior,"  capacity,  and  life 
lasted — for  paying  office-holders  enough  to  keep  them 
from  inadvertently  appropriating  or  asking  for  special 
appropriations — for  letting  the  "  fees "  (if  any)  of  an 
office  go  for  the  support  of  the  particular  government 
by  whose  authority  they  were  assessed  (if  none,  the 
government  should  be  thankful  that  no  "fees  "  need  be 
assessed) ;  give  intelligent,  honest  men  the  "  places " 
whence  law  originates  (?),  and  then  likely  we  will  have 
some  laws  that  can  be  enforced  (not  "lying" — orlieing — 
as  "  dead  letters  "  in  the  statute  book)  ;  if  honest  men  are 
not  in  office  to  make  or  enforce  law,  oust  them  "  as  are 
in,"  and  send  an  honest  man  to  "  fill  the  bill,"  and  at  the 
earliest  moment;  if  an  officer  is  proved  dishonest,  let 
him  be  dealt  with  by  the  law  as  indiscriminately  as  a 
rag-stealer  might  be.  In  .fact,  we  want  good,  plain,  non- 
twistable  laws,  good  officers  to  enforce  them,  and  those 
good  officers  well  paid. 

But  cautious  friend,  says,  "That's  too  big  a  job!"  to 
which  I  reply,  "  You'll  never  save  a  country  then  ! " 

No  country  can  be  sustained  long  without  honesty  and 
intelligence  are  its  constitution,  and  justice  and  mercy  its 


2o5  Politics. 

by-laws  (nor  does  such  a  country  expect  sustaining). 
When  trickery  takes  the  place  of  honest  dealing,  a  coun- 
try degenerates  into  the  foul  depths,  crime,  vanity,  and 
false  pride — and  after  pride  cometh  a  tumble.  All  history 
proves  this,  and  a  man  that  can't  see  it  is  blind  ;  and  the 
one  who  wantonly,  shuts  his  eyes  to  keep  from  seeing  it 
is  a  hypocrite.    . 

When  you,  who  understand  the  business  of  politics, 
achieve  the  triumph  of  the  less  seldom  and  fewer-voting 
principle,  then — and  not  till  then — will  those  to  whose 
class  I  belong,  come  in  to  help  you  out  in  the  rest  of  the 
"  good  work."  Until  that  happy  time  comes,  /(for  one) 
prefer  wood-sawing  to  "  voting,"  and  piling  cordwood  to 
"  meddling  in  politics." 

N.  B. — Sometimes  an  honest  man  gets  put  on  a  ticket 
— "  not  for  strength  to  the  ticket,"  but  to  give  a  sem- 
blance of  "  virtuous  dealing ; "  but  unless  there  is  a  tem- 
porary disgust  for  the  previous  occupant,  or  the  honest 
ii inn's  backers  happen  ("  for  once")  to  be  exceedingly 
powerful  and  persistent,  there's  not  much  fear  (?)  of  him 
or  his  ticket  being  elected.  What  constitutes  real  dis- 
honesty, is  not  so  much  stealing  from  others,  as  it  is  the 
persistent  misrepresentation  for  or  against  such  measures 
as  y<»ur  constituency  are  interested  in  not  only  as  a  "  con- 
stituency," but  as  a  part  of  a  whole  nation  of  men. 
Altho'  "I  am  no  party-man,"  my  wife,  Sally  Jane,  is  (?), 
and  a  certain  " presentiment  of  something''''  situated  in 
sight  of  her  door,  on  a  slim  piece  of  wood,  about  3 
men  high,  is  tending  muchly  to  nauseate  her  as  to  "sum  " 
'politics. 

Another  one  says:  The  long-term-good-behavior-or-ca- 
pacity  politics  will  never  come  in  vogue,  and,  if  it  did 


Politics.  207 

that,  plenty  of  men  can  be  found  to  swear  (for  another) 
that  the  office-holders  were  incapacitated,  dishonest,  and 
too  old  (or,  if  not,  ought  to  be).  '  Jonas '  says :  But  they 
do  that  now-a-days,  it  seems  like  ;  and  if  they  can  beat 
their  present  actions  then,  why  all  I  can  say  is,  "  God 
save  the  country  ! "  (for  politicians,  good,  bad,  or  indiffer- 
ent, won't  iftJiey  caii). 


"THERE'S  A  DESTINY  THAT  SHAPES 
OUR  EKDS,  ROUGH  HEW  THEM 
AS  WE  WILL."— Shakespeaee. 


There  are  lots  of  so-called  wise  tliat  imagine  they 
know  that  destiny  has  "  nothing  to  do  with  their  doings  " 
— they  are  self-conceited,  very.  Some  more  suppose  that 
their  destiny  is  already  shaped — "faith  makes  them 
whole"  (?)  (some  very  vain  ones  seem  to  imagine  them- 
selves whales).  "  Sum  phew  "  more,  don't  seem  to  care 
a  "  darn  about  destiny,"  and  "  let  the  old  tub  float." 
Some  more  say  that  they  don't  fully  believe  that  destiny 
is  going  to  inform  them  of  its  intention,  and  therefore 
still  keep  hewing  roughly  away  at  certain  ends,  leaving 
to  the  future  to  decide  as  to  the  certainty  or  uncertainty 
of  the  successfulness  of  their  endeavors. 

Heaving  a  "  sigh  for  those  who  love  them," 
Shoving  a  "  smile  at  those  who  hate," 
"  And  whatever  sky's  above  them," 
"Bearing  a  heart  for  any  fate." 

That  stanza  of  poet-try  was  partly  quoted  from  Byron, 
and  partly  furnished  by  one  of  your  Uncle  Jonas' 
friends,  who,  like  your  Uncle,  believes  in  the  rough-hew- 
and-trust-to-the  future  process  of  journeying  along,  inde- 
pendent of  sycophants  or  fools. 

Destiny  is  an  hitherto  unknown  animal — if  it  are  an 


"  There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends"     209 

animal — and  is  more  of  a  nondescript  than  "Bar-n urn's 
Mermaid  :  "  more  varied  as  to  the  figures  it  cuts  than  a 
fashionable  lady's  dress,  or  an  eccentric  clown's  contor- 
tions ;  more  perverse,  seemingly,  than  a  maiden's  smile, 
a  summer-wind,  an  old  bachelor's  vagaries,  a  poorly 
"  iled  "  locomotive,  a  puritanically  orthodox  "  boss,"  an  ill- 
fed  ox  in  a  big  meadow,  a  small  pig  in  a  turnip  patch ; 
as  unmindful  of  the  petty  Cares,  insolent  assaults,  idle 
taunts,  mournful  grimaces,  sycophantic  beseechings  of 
"  mortals  here  below,"  as  a  mud-fence  or  a  hermit,  a  ragged 
carpet  (that  will  wear  out  even  if  there  is  no  nickel  to 
any  more)  or  a  quaker  preacher. 

Mankind  have  seemed  to  tail  to  discover  "  what  consti- 
tutes destiny  "  (about  as  nearly  as  they  have  what  the 
praying  of  a  sick  cow  consists  in),  where  it  lodges,  and 
what  it  lives  on,  and  hence  we  seem  to  remain  in  blissful 
ignorance  of  it  (apparently — yea  !  apparently)  ;  but 
most  of  folks  (unlike  Jonas — I  mean  the  wood-sawyer  not 
the  whale-guzzler)  seem  to  delight  in  trying  to  find  out 
the  about  which  all  the  while,  either  from  "  witches  or 
sperits,"  newspapers  or  bottled  rum. 

(I  often  have  thought  that  the  more  a  man  he  drinks 
"  sum  "  rum,  the  more  he  imagines  he  can  read  his  des- 
tiny, and  maybe  he  can  ;  but  witches,  "  sperits"  or  news- 
papers won't  tell  much,  "  I  ween,  "  as  to  the  about 
"  sum  "  destin}r — of  his  own  at  least.) 

"  Sum  "  folks  supposing  they  know  what  "  destiny  " 
means  or  is,  and  that  it  controlleth  them  not,  strike  out 
for  glory  !  and  fetch  up  as  to  their  little  body  near  a  hole 
behind  "  sum  "  dilapitated  saw-log,  and  in  it  are  bidden 
"  for  a  while  to  rest "  by  "  sum  "  unweeping  sycophant, 
— "make  chase"  for  "sum"  fame  and  get  snubbed  by 


2io      el  There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends." 

"  sum  "  pityless  yaller  dog,  (the  dog's  darned  bad  luck  to 
have  such  folks  to  snub) — strive  after  much  pewter  plate, 
fine  carriage,  many  U.  S.  Bonds  and  counterfeit  10c. 
"  plasters,"  and  obtain  an  ill-grudged  burial  in  an  over- 
taxed county  graveyard — seek  for  "great  happiness,"  and 
find  it  don't  grow  well  in  this  climate  (or  any  other)  ;  and 
that  even  the  parsons  can't  supply  any  large  amount  to 
even  counterfeit  bliss — seek  for  "  excess  of  love,"  and  get 
"  sum  "  scoldings,  at  the  mystic  hour  of  12  or  "  wee  sma' 
hours  beyant,"  from  a  vinegar-visaged  wife,  who  is  intend- 
ing to  "  set  things  right," — seek  for  much  repose,  and 
receive  a  constant  awakening  from  the  complaints  of  a 
famished  (?)  pup. 

History  with  its  Alexander,  who,  after  conquering 
(so-called)  worlds,  died  in  a  drunken  fit ;  with  its  Shake- 
speare that  from  insignificant  boyhood  grew  to  an  un- 
equalled fame ;  with  its  cynical  Byron,  that,  after  penning 
thoughts  that  will  burn  in  the  minds  of  future  genera- 
tions, died  recklessly  in  an  insignificant  Turk  fight ; 
with  its  George  the  3d,  who,  for  a  petty  tax  on  "  sum"  much 
used  tea,  was  blinded  as  to  judgment  to  the  sufferings 
(?)  of  America,  and  to  his  own  interest;  with  its  Aaron 
Burr,  who  couldn't  read  the  downfall  of  his  purest 
dreams  in  his  attempts  to  gratify  his  most  ambitious — 
should  teach  the  destiny-sneerer  that  he  would  be  (for 
either  good  or  evil)  as  a  bubble,  light  as  air,  in  combat- 
ing with  the  storm's  brewed  waves  of  destiny,  a  pigmy 
in  the  hands  of  "hoary  time,"  and  a  mere  atom  that,  as 
to  weight  in  the  scale  of  eternity's  balances,  might  be 
scarcely  even  likened  to  the  breath  of  an  expiring 
pismire,  when  puffed  against  old  boreas'  mightiest  blast 
— so  little  of  naught  is  he. 


"There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends."       211 

["  What  is  man  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him,  or  the 
son  of  man  that  thou  regardest  him,"  is  borne  down  un- 
to us  on  storm  clouds  from  the  supremely  distant  past. 
In  answer,  tho',  the  same  voice  from  equidistant  periods 
floats  down  upon  us  on  summer  zephyrs,  bearing  on  its 
bosom,  "  not  one  hair  of  thy  head  canst  thou  turn  white 
or  black  !  "  but  "  the  sparrow  falleth  not  to  the  ground 
without  My  knowledge." 

Both  of  these  sentiments  were  uttered  at  man's  first 
horning.  Whether  it  were  destiny's  voice  that  uttered 
them  I  know  not,  but  I  seem  to  think  that  "  destiny  " 
had  something  to  do  with  it.] 

The  "  self-conceit  gets  knocked  out  of"  some  folks,  and 
the  "  starch  taken  out'en  "  some  folks'  paper  collars,  be- 
fore they  "shuffle  the  mortal  coil"  (they  never  shuffle 
their  feet — at  least  not  in  company). 

Destiny  to  "  them  "  folks  is  a  slippery,  yea,  very'  slip- 
pery saw-log.  Some  folks,  imagining  that  their  ends  are 
already  shaped,  "  sit  down  and  take  it  easy,"  looking  out 
so  little  for  to-morrow,  or  to-day  even,  that  a  big  head- 
ache, the  bilious  fever,  the  eating  of  a  sour-apple,  or  the 
loss  of  a  fortune  are  -borne  with  all  the  patience  of  a  mud 
turtle  in  a  thunder-squall,  or  the  resignation  of  a  full- 
beered  Dutchman  at  a  Sangerfest.  They  are  patient  be- 
cause they  can't  help  it,  or  resigned  because  they  are 
fully  (selt-)satisfied. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  these  folks  were  (or  might 
be)  tolerably  happy  ;  but  I  never  could  work  myself  into 
that  kind  of  saving  belief.  Destiny  seemed  to  work 
through  me  as  well  as  others,  and  I  seemed  (?)  to  be  im- 
pelled forward  to  what  I  knew  not,  nor  did  I  peradven- 
ture,  nevertheless,  hanker  to  know. 


212       " There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends" 

"  Other  folks "  care  not  for  "destiny,"  and  if  the  world 
were  (to  turn  out)  a  fish-ball,  they'd  just  bet  that  some 
"  little  bone "  would  somehow  "  stick  out "  for  their 
especial  tooth,  or  toe-hold,  and  if  it  didn't  they  wouldn't 
be  apt  to  "  worry  at"  it. 

This  class  don't  seem  to  have  energy  enough  to  "  get 
up  a  decent  worry  "  at  (or  of)  anything — they  may  make 
good  fish-yer-men,*  but  they  can't  run  an  (y)awl-boat. 

(1  have  once  in  a  while  imagined  I'd  like  to  be  of 
this  class,  but  when- 1  "come  to  study,"  about  how  some 
little  Simpkins  might  get  cat(ch)-fish  hungry,  before 
any  fish  were  catched,  I've  seemed  to  think  I  wouldn't.) 
Some  men  of  mortal  nature  keep  trying  to  "  push 
along,"  "  keep  moving  ".  like, 

But  rough  hew  the  saw-logs  as  they  will, 
They'd  find  they  need  some  planing  still ; 
And  should  they  plane  them  e'er  so  nice. 
They'd  fiud  they  need  some  planing  twice. 

(I've  seemed  to  find  the  above  out  by  slicing  saw-logs 
into  kindling  wood — much  consolation  (?)  was  the 
knowledge  tho.')  "Sum"  folks  have  been  "born  under 
a  lucky  star"  (according  to  "  sum  "  men)  and  had  "luck 
all  their  lives,"  but  I've  sometimes  noticed  that  the 
luck  of  that  lucky  class  often  ended  in  a  sumwhat  un- 
comfortable sleep  in  a  badly  made-up  hog  wallow  (and 
what's  done  once  may  happen  again,  for  "there's  noth- 
ing new  under  the  sun" — you  "mark  if  it  don't"). 

"  Sum  "  persons  have  a  guardian  angel  (so  it  is  said), 
but  if  so,  what  kind  of  "  wabble  "  their  walk  would  be 
without   it   I   am  afraid  to   think   (especially  when  you 

*  Fishermen,  I  suppose. — (Ed.) 


"  There's  a  Destiiiy  that  Shapes  our  Ends"''      2 1 3 

recollect  the  usual  "  walks  "  of  life  in  country,  town,  or 
city),  for  I've  seemed  to  "  observe"  that  they  (or  theys 
pathways — or  both)  circum-meander*  quite  crookedly 
even  now.  I  have  supposed  this  poor  gait  (or  gate)  could 
be  accounted  for  upon  the  premises  (if  some  bad  boys 
hadn't  "  gone  and  played  "  April — July— or  August  fool 
with  it)  that  their  guardian  angel  having  so  much  on  his 
hands,  in  the  caring  for  them,  that  it  is  compelled  to 
take  some  little  sleep,  and  leave  them  to  their  poor 
"  dig-rations,"  and  "  false  dock-tryings,"  (as  "  sum " 
preachers  call  "  digressions  and  false-doctrines  "). 

From  the  first  of  Jonas  Simpkins'  life  he  has  been  an 
enigma,  a  puzzle,  to  his  best  friends — for  if  other  boys 
liked  much  candy  he  didn't,  if  o-t-h-er  b-o-ys  liked 
much  apples  he  didn't,  but  if  other  boys  didn't  like 
much  mashed  potatoes  he  did.  When  a  "wee"  infant 
he  was  expected  to  die — and  yet  he  perversely  lived, 
and  at  two  years  of  age  his  father,  who  had,  perhaps,  no 
idea  of  an  early  decease,  died  ;  at  4  years  of  age,  he  fell 
off  of  "  sum "  plank  fence  and  hurt  himself  (."  not  a 
strange  thing  for  boys  to  do  "),  and  'twas  expected  he'd 
be  a  cripple,  but  he  walks  tolerably  erect  even  at  an  ad- 
vanced age ;  at  6  years  of  his  age  he  was  a  fine  reader,  and 
'twas  expected  that  he'd  be  a  "  scholar,"  but  of  late 
years  the  symptoms  of  "  advanced  scholarship  "  ain't 
very  alarming;  at  12,  Latin  was  at  his  "fingers'  ends," 
and  he  was  pointed  to  as  a  "  classic,"  but  at  the  present 
writing  he  hasn't  more  than  enough  on  hand  to  stock 
the  heads  of  some  \  doz.  town  librarians  ;  at  15  he  was 
suggested  as  an  example  of  a  very   ordinary  'fool,  and  it 

*  Ob !  Jonas,  don't! — "  you  are  too  hard  on  me."  I  am  going  to 
quit,  Jonas — or  quit  Jonas. — (Ed.) 


214       "  There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends. 

was  about  the  only  tiling,  that's  continued  partly  cor- 
rect up  to  this  time  of  life,  of  all  the  many  and  varied 
remarks  of  his  many  friends ;  at  20  he  was  energetic,  en- 
terprising, and  upright,  according  to  his  most  intimate 
acquaintances,  but  now  if  he  are  so,  none  (or  but  few) 
•are  anxious  to  either  secure  such  qualities  in  their  busi- 
ness or  even  reward  by  silent  approval — but  "  let  em 
rip,"  I  am  not  friendless,  and  with  a  yet  strong  right 
arm  and  some  little  pluck  I  may  (with  the  aid  of  those 
"friends"  I  do  have)  get  along  "just  the  same."  So 
all  thro'  his  life  he  has  sadly,  or  gladly,  disappointed  his 
"  many  friends,"  and  sometimes  himself  even  more  than 
any  of  them.  It  hath  been  the  experience  of  Jonas  that 
those  things  he  would  have  ventured  the  most  nickels 
on  he  has  been  the  most  egregiously  fooled  in — e'en 
from  "youth  to  hoary  age."  Betters — which  are  many 
in  America — seem  to  be  "  eager  to  stake  something  "  on 
every  subject,  from  the  color  of  a  chameleon  to  that  of 
lady's  eyes,  from  the  size  of  the  sun  to  that  of  a  girl's 
foot,  from  the  vote  of  a  ward  politician  to  that  of  a 
President,  from  the  number  of  eggs  in  a  pullet's  nest  to 
the  number  of  years  the  earth  shall  continue  to  whirl. 
They  ought  to  be  very  careful  to  recollect  that  altho' 
nature  does  her  jobs  well,  so  well  that  I  can't  but  invol- 
untarily take  oft'  my  hat  when  passing  a  little  awkward 
"cabbage  leaf,"  yet  she  never  goes  about  informing  peo- 
ple as  to  what  especial  kind  of  job  she  is  going  to  get 
up  ;  and  that,  altho'  destiny  may  appear  to  be  like  unto  a 
singed  cat,  yet  it  never  fails  to  catch  its  mice,  regularly, 
constantly  and  persistently. 

Therefore  I'd  say,  as  you  "  know  not  what  to-morrow 
will  bring  forth,"  beware  of  much  betting  of  "  stray  pen- 


"  There's  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends."      2 1 5 

nies."  A  friend  says:  "If  I  have  ever  ventured  any- 
thing on  the  soundness  of  "  sum  "  apple,  peach,  or  pear, 
and  made  a  grab  with  a  hungry  tooth,  it  were  sure  to 
turn  out  wormy,  and  the  tooth  strike  some  unnattoral 
softness  there ;  if  ever  "  I  went  a  few  "  on  the  undoubted 
piety  of  a  man,  that  talked  a  great  deal  of  the  time  he 
gave  to  the  Church  and  to  prayer,  I  was  sure  to  find  some 
rotten  action  lying  around  loose  to  be  stumbled  over  in 
the  dark  ;  if  ever  I  strove  to  convince  (?)  a  doubting 
friend  of  the  unmistakable  honesty  of  an  unequivocable 
Blowhard,  said  doubter  were  soon  sure  to  find  Meester 
Blowhard  trying  to  sell  "sum"  non-bustable,  easy  quen- 
chable  patent  "  ile  "  that  ("  the  mere  dealing  in  would 
secure  a  person  a  free  seat  in  heaven,"  Blow  said — and 
maybe  it  would)  generally  "  scattered  things  "  as  soon  as 
lit ;  if  ever  I  averred  that  a  passing  "  damsel "  was  un- 
doubtedly an  adornment  to  her  sex,  and  the  "  glory  of 
the  town,"  it  were  sure  to  "  turn  up/'  that  "  her  rig " 
were  mostly  "  shop-work,"  and  her  complexion  "  cheap 
paint ; "  if  I  ever  declared  (?)  my  opinion  to  be  that 
•'  yon  "  luscious  youth  was  "  full  of  brains,"  it  were  sure 
to  be  proved  that  all  his  brains  (if  he  had  any)  were  in 
his  "fatty"  legs,  and  rounded — (I  don't  recollect  the 
word  but  it's  the  part  he  sits  on  when  reading  a  "  dime 
novel ") ;  if  I  ever  asseverated  (?)  that  "  sum"  men  (?) 
weren't "  hogs,"  nor  "  wolves,"  nor  "  foxes,"  nor  "  asses,"  it 
was  apt  to  be  proven  that  they  only  had  their  "  tales  "  hid 
■in  their  coat  skirts,  or  up  their  back,  and  their  ears  under 
their  beavers."  "  Thus  he  once  spake."  He  ceaseth  to 
bet  any  more  now.  "  Peace  to  his  memory."  As  I 
want  to  be  worthy  of  such  a  friend,  I  don't  think  but 
what  I  shall  cease  to  bet  any  more  Copper  Jacks  on  any- 


2i6      "  There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends? 

thing  (but  my  pipe  or  wood  saw)  again ;  for  if  I  did,  I 
should  unreservedly,  deliberately,  and  "  without  mental 
reservation,"  expect — to  lose  it.     Hadn't  I  'ort  to  ? 

Whenever  Jonas  Simpkins  gets  in  the  notion  of  bet- 
ting on  something  again,  he's  going  (before  it  gets  to  be 
a  big  notion)  to  wend  his  way  silently,  but  determinedly 
to  "sum"  "huckster-shop"  and  trade  with  "  Mrs.  Mol- 
loy  "  for  "sum"  candies  and  peanuts  to  "tickle"  some 
young  Simpkinses  with,  as  they  want  something  of  that 
kind  worse  than  "  their  dad  "  wants  much  reputation  as 
a  better,  and  their  wants  (for  such  stuff)  an't  eager  "  nuth- 
er." 

"  Our  destiny  "  is,  to  most  of  folks,  a  mighty  "onsar- 
tin"  thing;  and  I've  seemed  to  notice  that  those  who 
strive  mostly  to  gather  hold  of  the  "  latter  end  "  get 
slung  into — a  direction  they  didn't  desire  Jo  travel  in 
muchly. 

Once,  when  I  were  too  young  to  "toddle"  and  too 
old  to  "  crow,"  that  interesting  age  that  parents  are  wont 
to  descant  on. as  to  their  youthful  (?)  progeny,  it  was  said 
by  some  admirers  of  my  deceased  paternal  parent  (I 
speak  reverently)  that  I  were  "  marked  out  for  a  preach- 
er;  "  but,  except  "  sum  "  boyish  sermons  delivered  from 
the  top  (or  on  the  bottom)  of  some  hickory-bottomed 
chair,  I  don't  know  that  I  have  ever  as  yet  fulfilled  my 
destiny  as  "  marked  out "  by  that  man.  As  I  aint  quite 
dead  yet,  tho',  I  may  take  to  lecturing  from  the  top  of 
a  well  worn  saw-horse.  I  am  not  one  of  those,  "it  must 
be  distinctly  understood  "  that's  going  around  trying  to 
convince  people  what  I  imagine,  or  hope  my  future  in 
this  or  any  other  world  is  destined  to  be. 

If  I  succeed  in  getting  plenty  of  wood  to  saw,  at  good 


"  There s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends"     2 1 7 

prices — plenty  of  food  to  eat  (for  Sally  Jane,  our  pro- 
geny, or  myself),  in  fair  slices — a  sufficiency  of  custom- 
ary apparel  (if  fig-leaves  be  in  fashion,  and  hence  "should 
be  the  go,"  I  care  not)  to  kiver  with — I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that  I'll  be  willing  to  shake  hands  with  destiny, 
"  call  it  even "  like,  and  "  drink  to  the  health "  of  its 
long  reign. 

Provided  (also)  no  people  try  to  injure  me,  my  wife, 
my  children,  or  my  wife's  children  (all  the  same  chil- 
dren), my  neighbors,  my  friends,  acquaintances,  or  poor 
relations.    I  shall  expect  also  to  try  and 

Let  little  preachers  watch  their  flocks, 
And  merchants  mind  their  little,  stocks, 
Let  students  mind  their  little  hooks, 
And  little  fishers  watch  their  hooks, 

hoping,  thereby,  that  it  may  be  "  our  destiny  "  to  obtain 
"  sum  "  small  slice  of  happiness  yet. 

But,  if  "  no  people  "  act  differently,  look  out  for  "  thun- 
der-squalls," you  hear. 

P.  S. — "  Sum'n  "  says,  "  there's  some  reason  for  every- 
thing "  and  altho  '  I  don't  wholly  accept  his  sayings  (or 
anybody  else's  "  so-called  "  sayings)  for  "  gospel,"  yet  I 
seem,  partly,  willing  to  believe  there  may  be  "  sum  " 
truth  in  some  of  which  (and  only  part-lie). 

Hence,  when  I  say  that,  in  the  pursuit  of  "  sum  "  des- 
tinyt'l  have  been  the  recipient  of  some  very  stout  hack- 
handed  licks,  it  may  not  seem  very  strange  that,  "for 
one,"  I  don't  run  fast  after  some  destiny,  nor  so  eagerly 
as  might  (by  "  sum  "  persons)  appear  to  be  necessary.  I 
ain't  going  to  run  from  it  tho  ',  you  bet,  but  intend  to 
"  stand  square  "  and  "  face  it,"  with  nose  to  the  front  and 


2 1 8       "  There's  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends." 

hand  in  my  pocket ;  for  one  won't  make  much,  either 
in  a  race  or  fight  with  destiny.  That  running  or  fight- 
ing would  be  about  as  pleasantly  successful  as  fish- 
ing for  minners  in  the  dark  of  the  moon,  and  the 
stars  gone  down,  with  some  piece  of  clothes-line  tied  on- 
to a  little  stick  with  no  hook  on  it,  while  fighting 
"  skeeters." 

JN".  B. — Thunder-bolts  ain't  no  more  the  "  tools  of 
destiny"  than  a  "flea  in  the  ear"  are.  In  fact  I  have 
often  thought  that 

A  little  flea,  tho '  small  he  be, 

Could  in  an  ear  more  "  rumpus  make  " 

Than  a  world  might  fear  from  mightiest  "  quake." 

"Fleas  in  the  ear"  often  set  nations  to  "pulling  the 
ears  "  of  other  nations  (and  of  other  nations'  "  barley  " 
also). 

Small  things,  in  small  places,  can  make  much  more 
noise  than  much  larger  things  in  still  larger  places  can. 
"  Small  "  men,  like  Whiffles,  are  better  known  in  their 
"small "  town  than  "  large  "  men,  like  Newton,  through- 
out the  universe.  Cannon  may  not  arouse  a  man  out  of 
sound  sleep,  but  a  mosquito  may.  Several  children,  with 
rattle-boxes  and  tinpans,  may  not  wake  a  sleeping  infant, 
but  a  fly  may.  I  have  seemed  to  notice  that  I  was 
"  inclined  to  the  belief,"  that  destiny  is  like  a  watchful 
parent,  who  has  placed  his  infant  child  on  the  grass  to 
play,  when  perceiving  that  the  child  has  delightedly 
seized  some  spires  of  grass  to  chew  on,  "  takes  them 
spires  away"  to  "keep  it  from  choking  itself;"  or  like 
(as  Henry  Ward  Beecher  has  it)  a  "  cat  that  finding  its 
kittens  in  danger,  from  prowling  boys  or  winter  rain, 


"  There  s  a  Destiny  that  Shapes  our  Ends?       219 

seizes  them  one  at  a  time,  between  its  teeth  roughly,  and 
takes  them  to  a  place  of  safety  and  security." 

Destiny  is  the  kindest  when  we  abuse  it  most,  and 
that  which  may  have  seemed  to  some  person  "  very  hard  " 
(viz.,  the  loss  of  wood-sawing  jobs),  may  have  given  the 
world  another  book  (for  its  children  to  tear  up)  and  much 
enjoyment  and  profit  (to  the  publishers). 

Who  knows  ?  Not  Jonas — not  yet ;  and  if  not  Jonas, 
who  do  ? 

t^lT0  Because  destiny  don't  seek  an  introduction  to,  or 
claim  the  patronage  flowing  from  the  coffers  of  the  rich, 
or  even  seek  to  mingle  with  the  poor  (at  all  times),  it  is 
no  reason  (as  a  wood-sawyer  looks  at  it)  that  the  weakly 
should  sneer  or  slander  (at)  it.  Destiny  undoubtedly 
don't  care,  but "  it  looks  so  small." 

H^lr"  I  have  sometimes  imagined  (?)  that  a  person 
would  be  about  as  sure  to  escape  his  destiny,  as  he  would 
be  correct  in  supposing  himself  safe — in  the  time  of  much 
war — at  a  point  where  much  bombshells  "  was  busting," 
by  hiding  his  head  in  a  soap-grease  barrel,  or  his  body 
behind  a  cloth  tent.  "  Sum  folks  "  seem  to  imagine  that 
because  they  can't  see  destiny  "  it  ain't  nowhar  around." 
Their  little  obituary  afterwards  proves  the  contrary. 


"CONTENTMENT    IS    WEALTH."  (?) 


This  may  be  so  with  "  sum  folks,"  but  contentment 
"  ain't  been  fruitful "  as  to  that  branch  of  the  Simpkins 
family  from  which  sprang  "  Yours  Serenely,"  "  The 
Wood-sawyer,"  either  by  its  quantity  or  quality,  in  satis- 
fying the  hungry  claims  of  a  generous  grocer. 

A  butcher  was  my  quondam  creditor  for  some  stale 
meat,  to  the  amount  of  "  sum  "  nickels.  He  eagerly  be- 
sought me  for  some  money,  saying,  "  Your  account  needs 
balancing,  sir ! "  I  knew  (?)  that  as  well  as  he  did,  but 
with  what  to  balance  it  I  knew  not ;  for  it  seemed  to  me 
to  be  all  a  "  one-sided,"  lob-sided  "  affair."  But  I  con- 
cluded, as  I  had  heard  that  "  contentment  was  wealth," 
I'd  offer  him  just  enough  contentment  (wealth)  to 
"  balance  that  thing  and  be  done  with  it."  I  did  so, 
accordingly,  but  "  he  thanked  me,"  "  that  warn't  the 
kind  of  coin  he  had  to  pay  the  stock  men  off  with." 
(Now,  you  see,  I  didn't  have  any  mrymxich  contentment 
of  my  own  left  on  hand,  as  my  life  as  a  laborer  had 
drained  pretty  near  all  out  of  the  "  cougher ;  "*  but  I 
supposed,  as  so  many  were  going  around  "preaching  " 
its  value,  that  there  was  a  plenty  (somewhere)  to  borrow 
— as  when  things  are  scarce  everybody  don't  try  to  "  rush 

*  Jonas  must  mean  coffer,  but  /don't  know. — (Ed.) 


"  Contentment  is  Wealth"  221 

them  off"  much).  I  told  liira  that  I  had  heard  that  they 
took  it  in  some  retail  "  glass  houses  " — or,  at  least,  they 
tried  to  "  pay  off  in  that  kind  of  coin."  He  said :  "  I 
tried  to  buy  some  glass  jars  of  the  house  you  mentioned, 
but  the  price  they  charged  was  '  very  big,'  and  they 
didn't  want  anything  but  the  coin  for  them  n-e-i-th-er, 
and  as  nobody  else  will  take  it,  I'll  be  butchered  if  I 
do." 

I  bade  him  good-bye,  hurriedly,  telling  him  I'd  call 
again  when  I  had  some  of  his  kind  of  coin,  but  at  present 
I  was  lacking  in  that  hind  of  wealth.  (Why  "  sum  " 
folks  want  to  circulate  a  coin  that  "  don't  pass  current " 
among  themselves,  I  know  not ;  hut  I  do  seem  to  have 
begun  to  diskiver  that  there  are  some  that  don't  consider 
some  contentment  much  wealth.)  I've  seemed  to  have 
noticed  that  there  are  a  certain  class  .of  contentment- 
mongers,  who  blow  about  its  great  advantages  as  a  cir- 
culating medium,  who  are  "  monstrous  apt "  to  receipt 
for  nothing — as  a  thing  of  value — without  it  are  in  the 
shape  of  merchandise,  or  "  its  equivalent."  Mental  or 
moral  qualifications  wouldn't  go  any  farther  with  them, 
as  a  means  of  favor,  than  fried  oysters  would  with  an  in- 
land African. 

(They  know  not  of  the  value  of  them,  and  hence  can't 
appreciate  them.) 

I  dreamt  once  a  dream,  "  that  were  not  all  a  dream." 
I  thought  that  it  were  in  "  sum  "  low-lie  city,  of  "  sum 
thousands "  population,  that  Jonas  Simpkins,  and  his 
numerous  and  interesting  family,  had  taken  their  abode ; 
that,  after  much  more  display  of  hard  work  (both  of  brain 
and   muscle)  than   fine-answer-ing,*  he  had   secured  a 

*  Another  spout  from  Jonas.  I  suppose  he  means  financiering. — (Ed.) 


222  "  Contentment  is  Wealth ." 

lowly  cot  in  the  suburbs,  called,  in  the  adjoining  city  (?), 
Egyptian  (tho'  wherefore  called  so,  the  dream  didn't  say, 
and  hence  I  have  only  to  suppose  that  that  portion  of 
town  was  an  unknown  region  from  which  was  to  come  a 
Pharaoh  to  chastise  "  them  "  city-sins*)  ;  that  a  continua- 
tion (at  work)  for  years  bringing  me  nearer  the  grave 
than  to  wealth,  I  had  to  cease  my  labors ;  that  my  hard 
work  was  no  more  appreciated  than  would  have  been  the 
smile  of  a  boa-constrictor ;  that  every  one  wondered  at 
my  cessation  from  labor,  and  imagined  that  with  such 
kind  (?)  men  I  ought  surely  to  have  been  contented ;  that 
every  one  "  observed  "  that  a  "  man  that  couldn't  get 
along  comfortably  on  the  salary  "  /received  (or  "  couldn't 
see  that  it  was  wealth  enough  for  anybody  "),  "  ought  to 
be  drummed  out  of  the  vicinity  ; "  that  all  were  willing 
to  decry  me  as  a  fool  (yes,  I  might  say,  as  they,  "  as 
fools,"  decry  those  they  have  never  seen) ;  that  every  one 
preached  that  "  contentment  is  wealth."  I  yet  lived  in 
that  town,  sure ! 

[After  that  dream  I  awoke  with  the  desire  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  "  lots  "  of  contentment  (yea !  more  than  to  have 
"  lots  "  of  real  estate,  in  that  town  at  least),  or  to  be  able 
to  depart  in  peace ;  for  with  that  kind  of  feeling,  as  fore- 
shadowed in  the  dream,  I  didn't  know  but  what  some 
careless  fellow,  instigated  by  a  malicious  "veteran," 
might  steal  my  brass  buttons  "  off'n  "  a  worn-out  coat, 
to  make  into  nnger-rings  for  "  his  oabiesP  I  didn't  hate 
anybody,  tho',  nor  was  I  "friendless,"  but  I  didn't 
hanker  after  any  love  from,  nor  did  my  old  pea-jacket 
swell  with  any  emotions  of  love  for  those  from  whom  I 

*  Did  you  mean  citizens  ?    Answer,  please. — {Ed.) 


"  Contentment  is  Wealth" 


~~i 


should  have  to   ask  for   "  wood-sawing."     "  That's   all 
about  it,"  1  tell  yer.']     But  as  to  others  : 

I  have  seen  some  children  that  seemed  to  be  contented 
with  a  tin  penny-whistle  or  a  rag  baby,  and  others  that 
couldn't  be  satisfied  with  a  $50  rocking-horse,  with  steam 
attachments,  or  a  $25  doll,  which  sang  "  Nelly  Ely " 
(these  toys,  etc.,  are  some  Simpkins'  inventions).  I  have 
observed  some  youths  that  seemed  contented  with  a 
"  rough  sled,"  made  of  some  old  plank,  and  others  that 
didn't  even  seem  pleased  with  a  "two-horse-cutter,"  with 
horses  and  bells  attached.  I  have  seemed  to  notice  some 
men  that  seemed  content  with  the  profits  of  a  well-regu- 
lated pea-nut  stand,  and  others  that  worried  for  the 
imagined  income  of  an  Astor. 

Some  aged  persons  seem  contented  with  a  clay  pipe,  a 
virtuous  life,  a  "  well-settled  "  offspring,  and  mashed  po- 
tatoes (trusting  for  better  things  hereafter—?/  there  are 
any);  and  others,  with  imported  cigars,  a  trumpeted 
fame,  "sum"  endowed  grandchildren,  and  plum-pudding 
that  can't  but  "grunt  all  the  time,"  (imagining  that 
there  is  nothing  good  that  they  haven't— hence  "  very 
hopeless  of  better  times"). 

Now,  altho'  I  am  not  one  of  those  that  can  stand  still 
and  be  booted,  hooted,  and  sneered  at— and  be  contented 
and  forget  it— yet  I  try  "  to  not  worry  over  the  present," 
trusting,  as  I  have  not  seemed  to  be  over  fortunate,  that 
there  may  be  something  "  good  for  me  yet  in  store." 
(Anyhow  "  I  ain't  grunty,"  for  I  ain't  "  friendless.") 

I  don't  believe  that  contentment  consists  in  being 
patient,  any  more  than  happiness  consists  in  "gulping 
down  "  cabbage  and  green  corn. 

A  man  may  be  (or  not  be)  tolerably  contented  and  yet 


224  "  Contentment  is  Wealth." 

not  be  willing  to  turn  boot  black  for  a  petty  trader  in 
"  goobers,  "  or  to  give  brain  and  muscle  to  "  sum ' 
wealthy  trader  in  calico  and  delaines,  for  a  few  shillings 
per  year. 

If  contentment  is  best  proven  by  selling  one's  self 
"  for  a  song,"  I  have  some  Mends  who  say  that  they 
"ain't  around"  proving  themselves  possessed  of  any  (so- 
called)  contentment.  (They  don't  want  to  hear  "no 
such  music  "  neither.) 

They  say  that,  "  a  man  that  would  call  patience  con- 
tentment— or  blind  folly  contentment — or  sycophancy 
contentment — would  argue  that  if  a  person  said  yes  and  it 
were  called  yes-say,  if  he  said  es,  it  should  be  styled  essay." 

(They — these  contentmentists,  so-called — would  trade 
themselves  off  for  a  mosquito  bar  to  cover  some  forlorn, 
a-stray  jackass  with, — if  they  could.) 

Of  all  the  many  "peebles"  I  have  ever  known,  or 
heard  the  names  of,  I  can't  (positively)  point  to  but  very 
"  phew "  that  were  at  all  contented,  and  only  "  sum 
phew"  that  ever  seemed  to  be.. 

If  contentment  be  wealth  I  am  afraid  that  A.  T. 
Stewart  will  have  to  be  sent  to  the  poor-house — and  if 
Stewart  goes  there,  "  whar  in  thunder  "  will  his  imita- 
tors then  go. 

Dogs  don't  fight  "  contentedly  "  over  no  bones. 

P.S. — Sally  Jane,  who  has  been  "  some  "  on  content- 
ment (real  contentment,)  has  at  last  found  out  that  it 
can't  be  exchanged  for  cotton  cloth  for  self,  or  shoes  for 
the  baby — and  that  the  government  don't  encourage  the 
"  growth "  of  it,  by  offering  to  exchange  3c.  postage 
stamps  ("  to  write  long  lost  friends"  (?)  with.) for  it. 


"  Contentment  is  Wealth?  225 

N.B. — It  is  hoped  that  the  reader  will  be  contented  (to 
quit  ?)  when  he  reads  through  this  little  volume — or  that 
if  he  don't  the  publisher  may  be  contented  with  the 
proceeds  of  it. 

Jonas  Simpkins  ain't ;  but  (as  he  would  "  cordially  " 
advise  them)  he  is  trying  to  be  patient,  if  for  no  other 
reason,  "  to  see  his  money  (wealth)  back." 


MOTTOES    FOR    LABOR 

(listen  to  simpkins  !) 


1st.  Combination  is  strength  (or  may  be) — hence  "  stick 
to  each  other,"  but  don't  sacrifice  individuality. 

2d.  Honesty  is  (a)  strengthener  ;  hence  cheat  no  man  out 
of  time  or  money. 

3d.  Time  saved  is  life  gained;  hence  strive  for  short 
(8  h'r)  work,  and  apply  the  extra  time  to  recreation 
or  useful  work  at  home. 

4th.  System  is  the  (proper)  art  of  conducting  a  true 
business  /  hence  try  and  learn  it. 

5th.  Thought  is  the  master  of  the  world;  therefore 
practice  thinking. 

6th.  Diffusion  of  (true)  knowledge  is  the  chief  end  of 
man  (or  should  be)  ;  therefore  buy  good  books  (and 
papers),  think  over  them,  fathom  their  thoughts  as 
expressed  (cull  the  bad  from  the  good),  and  tell 
them  to  the  world  (or  any  part  of  it)  in  the  best 
style  you  can. 

7th.  Practice  produces  perfectness  (in  anything  that  you 
are  adapted  to)  ;  hence  "  try,  try  again  ; "  but  not  at 
"  scrubbing  floors  by  imagination "  alone,  or  in 
"  handling  a  weeding-hoe  with  a  tooth-pick." 

8th.  Truth  will  conquer  sooner  or  later  /  hence  never 
try   to   keep   up   appearances  by  lying  or  deceiv- 


Mottoes  for  Labor.  227 

9th.  Order  secures  property;  hence  encourage  no  dis- 
order or  riot. 

10th.  Morality  is  the  foundation  of  health;  hence  seek 
no  immoral  company  ;  encourage  no  intemperance 
in  eating,  drinking,  or  idleness. 

11th.  Becreation  is  man's  muscle  and  brain  doctor; 
hence  encourage  reasonable  rest  in  wife,  children,  or 
friends. 

12th.  Economy  is  the  poor  man's  banker,  the  storehouse 
from  which  in  sickness  or  misfortune  he  can 
draw  his  supplies  ;  therefore  be  saving  (but  while 
you  save  some  don't  let  your  "  heart  be  hardened  " 
to  forget  your  family's  needs). 

13th.  Generosity  is  a  poor  man's  expense  account — and 
don't  fail  to  be  generous  (as  to  your  ability)  to  your 
suffering  brother-man;  for,  like  unto  a  banker's 
expense  account,  it  brings   in  double  for  all  that's 

SPENT. 

14th.  Politeness  is  a  poor  man's  pass-word— let  him 
never  forget  it. 

15th.  Veracity  is  a  poor  man's  "  note  of  hand  ;  "  hence 
never  make  promises  that  you  can't  fulfill,  or  if 
unfulfilled  "  show  (and  give  instant)  good  reason 
why  "  (or  why  not). 

16th.  Labor  is  respectable,  and  poverty  is  only  a  mis- 
fortune ;  hence  "  never  be  ashamed  of  it "  {in  thy- 
self or  OTnERs). 

17th.  Candor  is  a  wise  man'spride  ;  hence  (if  asked  for)  be 
free  to  utter  thy  honest  opinions  before  all  (but  de- 
cently) and  never  have  any  dishonest  ones  to  utter. 

18th.  Health  is  a  poor  man's  capital  ;  hence  never 
waste  its  blessings  in  frivolity. 


228  Mottoes  for  Labor. 

19th.  Gratitude  is  a  poor  man's  hank  check /  hence 
.     never  dishonor  it,  nor  let  it  go  to  protest. 

20th.  Industry  is  the  mother  of  usefulness ;  hence 
always  be  doing  something  ("  but  divide  equally  ") 
either  in  reading,  sleeping,  or  working,  (for  "work  " 
is  not  the  only  way  of  being  industrious,  as  I  have 
seemed  (?)  to  have  known  men  that  were  industrious 
for  good  while  "loafers"  imagined  them  "lazying  "). 

21st.  Frankness  is  akin  to  truthfulness  ;  hence  ac- 
knowledge the  acquaintance  of  none  that  you  fail 
to  find  frankness  in :  and  they  can  (generally)  be 
told  by  hand-grip  more  than  by  mouth-"  spat." 

22d.  "Necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention"  (some 
say) — if  so,  it  are  the  best  when  "  passed  "  as  worthy 
by  truth's  foreman,  and  the  putting  in  time  at  such 
work  is  "  good  for  man,"  (but  never  "  invent  a 
lie  "). 

23d.  Charity  (a  poor  widow's  "  mite")  is  the  poor  man's 
friend  ;  hence  cultivate  it  (or  try). 

24th.  Cleanliness  is  a  wise  man's  conceit — and  I  am  as 
happy  when  I  get  on  a  clean  shirt  as  a  generous 
man  is  when  he  gives  a  beggar  a  quarter  instead  of 
a  cent,  or  a  politician  when  he  gets  a  tat  office. 


TO  "CLOSE  UP"-aPKO   TEM,"  SINE 
DIE,   SO-CALLED. 


Ajoo  !  little  book.  May  your  voyage  be  gentle  and 
swift,  and  may  you,  as  Zach  used  to  say,  "  nave  much 
*  easy  passage.'' " 

The  dull  brains  and  empty  stomachs  of  (some  of)  your 
readers  will  undoubtedly  prevent  them  from  under- 
standing or  appreciating  anything  of  good  there  may  be 
in  you,  but  we  "won't  care"  little  book,  if  they  pay  for 
you  when  bought,  or  be  a  little  careful  as  to  how  they 
throw  you  around  loose  after  you  "  come  into  their  fin- 
gers." You  have  had  no  friend  to  help  you,  but  you 
are  not  "friendless."  Your  "haw-ther"  had  to  "fight 
it  out  on  his  own  line."  It  took  "  all  summer."  May 
you  do  good  or  "  bust." 

Tour  friend,       JONAS  SIMPKINS. 

Err-a-tar. — As  to  the  many  undoubted  errors  (in  this 
little  book)  in  punctuation,  abbreviation,  annotation, 
reiteration,  discrimination,  illustration,  or  digression — if 
you  think  you  know  about  (what  he  means)  better  than 
the  "  haw-ther  "  does — just  correct  to  suit  yourself.  The 
editor  may  try  but  will  undoubtedly  fail.  But  as  for 
spelling  I'd  leave  it  alone  as  "  too  big  a  job  "  and  "plen- 
ty good  for  the  money." 

N.  B. — "  Sum  "  folks  admire  spelling  correctly  more 
than  they  do  praying  correctly  (and  they  are  not,  gene- 
rally, good  at  either). 


230  To  Close  Up. 

As  to  reiteration,  the  "  haw-ther "  intended  a  good 
deal  of  that,  as  he  believed  it  would  be  more  life-like.  As 
to  digressions  I  have  often  seemed  to  notice  men  who  would 
begin  to  talk  on  "  war"  (with  a  wood-saw)  and  "  close 
up  "  on  a  dog  fight — interlarding  the  converse  with  re- 
ligion and  politics  and  a  sketch  of  their  own  downfall — 
and  the  subject  they  started  on  warn't  the  one  best  de- 
claimed on  either.     "  So  it  is  "  or  so  it  is 

"  Show  up  the  errors  if  you  can" 
"  But  don't  attempt  to  kill  a  man  " 
Whose  name  is 

JONAS  SIMPKINS. 

P.  S. — I  ain't  as  good  on  reiteration  and  digression 
as  some  folks  ;  for  I  have  noticed  "  sum  "  preachers  who 
could  "  beat  me  and  give  me  2  in  the  game  " — reitera- 
ting more  in  half  an  hour  than  I  can  in  a  week. — (J.  S.) 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


Series  9482 


